Fooling Yourself
by Medicated Perfection
Summary: Carter's depressive state and a new underlying medical condition cause him to take drastic measures to be able to function, which causes him to slip back into a world full of pain, drugs, secrets and lies. Set during Season 7!
1. Failure By Design

**Fooling Yourself**

**Authors Note:** This isn't my first fanfic, but it is my first ER fanfic. So, I apologize if it's downright appalling. Which it probably is.

**Summary:** Carter's depressive state and a new underlying medical condition cause him to take drastic measures and slip back into a world full of pain, drugs and lies.

This is set in Season 7, roughly around a month after Atlanta. Mark never got a brain tumour either, so Mark doesn't die

Oh, and since I'm Australian some of my spelling may differ to how it's spelt in America, like some words with 'or' – eg; color is colour, and behavior is behaviour etc.. Sorry if that annoys anybody.

**Chapter 1 ; Failure By Design.**

_~I awoke only to find my lungs empty, through the night it seems as if I'm not breathing. Now my dreams are nothing like they were meant to be; and I'm breaking down. I think I'm breaking down. I'm afraid to sleep, because of what haunts me. Such as living with the uncertainty that I'll never find the words to say, which would completely explain just how – I'm breaking down~_

_It was pitch black. That was the first thing that flashed through my mind. I couldn't see anything – It was quiet. Where was I? I looked around, but all that was there, was darkness. Complete and utter darkness. I waved my hand in front of my face, and was disappointed at the results. I couldn't see my own hand. Was I blind? Oh God. I was blind! That was it! After everything I've already been through, now I've lost my sight. My thoughts came to a halt as I heard something – it sounded as if someone was grasping for air._

_"Hello?" I called out, trying to locate the sound within the darkness._

_"Carter" the voice scratched out._

_My head shot straight up, it couldn't be! "Lucy?" I called out again, squinting my eyes I tried to regain my sight._

_"Why did you do this Carter?" I winced as I heard the words laced with pain._

_"I-I didn't do anything Lucy! I never meant for this to happen!" I was pleading with her now, how could she blame me? She didn't really think it was **my fault**, did she?_

_"If you weren't so caught up in your own life Carter, you would have realised that Paul was schizophrenic! That there wasn't something right with him! But instead you ignored me, and now this happened. It was **your **fault Carter! It always will be! You should have been the one to die Carter! It was **your mistake!** Yet I was the one who had to suffer the consequences! No one would have missed you! Not like how they all miss me. You're the one who deserved to die that day Carter!"_

_I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "I'm s-sorry Lucy, I never-" I stopped mid sentence. It was as if a light switch in my brain had been switched back on, everything around me lit up and I immediately regretted getting my sight back. I was back in Curtain Area 3 – I wasn't lying on the floor in pain this time though. No, this was something different._

_"Lucy?" I hoped she was still here, I wanted her to know that I was sorry, if I could change things that day I would. I'd swap places with her._

_I heard shuffling behind me, I turned my head ready to apologize and tell Lucy what I needed her to hear. But the sight before me caught me off guard. I gasped as I saw Paul lunge forward and plunge the knife into my back all over again. Pain flashed before my eyes._

"Aah!" He screamed into the empty bedroom. One hand was running through his hair that was now damp with sweat, the other was resting on his back unconsciously rubbing small circles on the spot where he had just envisioned himself getting stabbed.

_It felt so real. I could feel it all over again, the unbearable pain. The knife –_

Carter shook his head as if to banish the thoughts from his mind. He'd been having these recurring dreams for weeks now that he had gotten back from Atlanta. He couldn't recall having them when he was in rehab. Sure, he had nightmares while he was there, but they were never this bad. Ever since returning to work again, they had started back up. He brushed some stray strands of hair from his eyes and looked down at his alarm clock. The fluorescent green 3:45am stared back at him. His shift started at 6am.

Pushing the covers off of himself, he made his way into the dimly lit bathroom. Light streamed in from the small window in the corner. The street lights illuminated the mirror as he looked at his reflection.

_I look terrible._

The dark circles under his eyes seemed to be getting darker by the day. A clear sign that he wasn't getting the right amount of sleep he needed. His eyes that were once full of life now just looked dull and empty. The dark circles underneath them just complemented the look. His hair was sticking out in various different ways from the obvious tussle he had while he was in bed.

Turning the knob for the cold water, he sighed. He cupped his palms underneath the faucet and once an adequate amount of water had gathered, he bobbed his head down towards his hands and splashed the cold water on his face. If the nightmare hadn't completely awoken him, the cold water now had.

He started back at his reflection as he watched the water droplets trickle down his brow and run down his cheek. As they were running down his cheek he noticed how similar it looked to as if he was crying. He had long ago stopped crying – there were basically no more tears he could cry. Everything just felt empty and numb now. But watching the water droplets made him remember the times that he had cried over the ordeal. The tears he cried because of Lucy's death and the tears he cried because of the excruciating pain radiating through his back. Remembering these times when he had felt emotion, made him feel a twinge of sadness. The smallest bit of hope that he had left was relieved to find that he atleast could still feel an emotion – even if it was only one emotion. Everything wasn't numb and even if it wasn't the one he wished he could feel. He wanted to feel happiness again, he wanted to feel love. But he knew that was a lost cause. Those feelings were long gone, and he had an inkling that they weren't coming back.

He sighed again as his mind wandered back to the nightmare he had just had. Remembering all the things that Lucy had said to him – did she really feel that way about him. That he deserved to die. Sure, he felt like dying at times. But he didn't know if he actually deserved to.

_Maybe she was right. She did have a lot of potential, she was young and smart. She got accepted into psych – she would have made an excellent psychologist. But instead, she never got the chance. Yet I did, I survived. Why? For what purpose? I could never fill Lucy's spot and become a great psychologist. Hell! I couldn't even become a damn surgeon! Lucy was right. She shouldn't have died. I should have. Because all I ever do is fail. Why should a **failure** get a chance at life – when Lucy, the smart, loving Lucy had her life ripped from her at such a young age._

"I am just a failure" he repeated to himself out loud. Believing every word he said.

Carter glanced over his shoulder to try and read the time; he squinted his eyes and tried to read the numbers – 4:07am. For around 20 minutes he had been standing there. Just staring off into space; pondering his life, wondering again about the "what ifs" – there were no what ifs. Just cold hard facts, Lucy died and he survived. He wondered whose bright idea that was. If there was a higher power; a God. Why did he insist on taking Lucy's life and not his? He couldn't help but feel another emotion slowly creeping its way up. He hated this emotion as much as he hated the other one. He frowned as the guilt washed over him.

He shook himself out of his reverie and decided that a nice cold shower would do some good right about now. He slipped his t-shirt over his head, but paused midway with his arms still in the air above his head, shirt still in their grasp. He looked into the mirror once again, and wasn't surprised to notice the outline of his ribcage. He knew he should eat more, but frankly he wasn't that hungry, and to be honest. He really just couldn't be bothered.

He removed the rest of his clothing and stepped into the shower, turned the cold water on and he let it wash over his body. He closed his eyes and relaxed, leaning his head back against the cold tiled wall.

After a good 40 minutes Carter stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his waist and shook his head to expel any excess water off his hair. The remaining water dribbled down his back. The effect the water had made him shiver – he made his way back into the bedroom and started rummaging around his closet. Quickly pulling a white t-shirt over his head he went in search for a clean dress shirt. Grabbing his newly found shirt, pants and boxers he began to get dressed for work. Once he was dressed, minus his shoes and socks and his tie he headed into the kitchen to get some much needed coffee. On the way he grabbed his watch by his nightstand table.

Looking down at his watch he noted that it was now 10 to 5. He had work in an hour – he wondered if his colleagues had noticed his depressed mood. He tried to make it look like everything was ok, and that he truly was happy. But could they see through his facade? Did they notice that it was all an act? Well if they did no one had said anything and that was fine by him.__

After making his coffee he nursed the cup in his hand. After the cold shower he had just had, the warmth from the cup was refreshing. He walked over to where a large window was located on the far wall, staring down at the silent streets below him he watched as the trees gently moved from the slight breeze. There was hardly anybody in sight, as it was still early in the morning. The odd car or two would drive past. Carter placed the half empty cup in the sink, and rinsed it out. Leaving the cup in the sink he headed towards his room to fetch his shoes, socks and his tie. Once he gathered the items he tugged his socks on followed suit by his shoes. Draping his tie around his neck he picked his dark suit jacket up and swung it over his shoulder. After mentally making sure he had everything he flicked the light switch to the lounge room on, since his shift finished at night he didn't want to have to stumble through the dark when he got home. The room immediately became bright and he winced at the sudden sensitivity he had towards the light. Grabbing his keys and satchel he headed out the door.

He was soon in his jeep, on his way to work. He glanced at the dashboard and the time glared back at him – 5:21am. He was going to get their early, if anyone asked it was because he needed to catch up on charts. Not because he couldn't bear being at home with himself and his thoughts.

_~The most dramatic conflicts are perhaps, those that take place not between men. But between a man and himself – where the arena of conflict is a solitary mind~_

The quote flashed through his mind as he remembered once reading it in one of the many books his father had in the library. It had always stayed with him throughout his years. Maybe it was the truth in the fact.

Finally arriving at the hospital he glanced back down at the dashboard, 5:30am. He wasn't on till another 30minutes. He could get enough coffee at Doc Magoo's – or maybe even get a bite to eat. The thought of food suddenly made him nauseous. So he scratched that off his list. He really needed to start eating more. His clothes practically hung off him now. He knew that his colleagues did in fact notice his rapidly deteriorating weight. He used to weigh a good solid 170lbs – he knew back then that, that wasn't really that much. But last week he had weighed himself and found that he was just hitting the 152lbs mark. But by now he knew it was probably down to 150lbs. He just hoped they didn't question him about it. He didn't want to hear their opinions on how he now had anorexia. He silently chuckled to himself. He knew he didn't. He didn't deliberately starve himself, he just... wasn't hungry

Upon entering the ER he noticed that the chairs were pretty much empty, besides the one or two stray loved ones of a patient and the odd drunk.

The first person he noticed was Deb. She was sitting at the desks skimming through a patient's folder. Carter remembered back when he and Deb had been rivals at the start, both fighting over who would get to complete what procedure. He was shocked when he learned that she was dropping out because of the guide wire incident. He remembered trying to persuade her to stay, but to no avail. But now that she had come back, their friendship was almost immediate. They had their ups and downs, but he was pretty sure that she was his best friend here in the ER. He regretted bringing up her past mistake that day when they staged the intervention. But he was extremely angry at them all. But now he had them to thank, because if it wasn't for them noticing his problem – he would most likely be dead, in jail or like his cousin Chase – mentally handicapped.

He plastered his fake smile on his face as he approached her. "Hey Deb, how's it been going?"

Deb looked up and tried to hide the shock on her face. Her shift finished at 6am and that's when Carter's started. She didn't think she'd run into him this morning, was it already six? She quickly glanced at her watch and noticed it was still 5:30ish.

_Carter's here early._ She thought to herself. "Hey Carter. It's been pretty quiet, hardly any traumas. Just a few drunks needing to sleep it off... you're here early?" she smiled up at him.

"Oh. Yeah I have a lot of charts to catch up on, so I thought I'd get an early start on them." He sheepishly grinned at her.

"Ah I see. Well I'll let you catch up on your charts then. I've still got a few to do before I clock off anyway."

Carter said his goodbyes and headed towards the lounge. After putting his things away and exchanging his jacket for his lab coat and wrapping his stethoscope around his neck he headed back towards the admit desk.

Haleh approached him "They're bringing in an unconscious sixteen year old. ETA is 5 minutes" with that she left him and headed into trauma 1 to get ready for the impending trauma.

Carter hated it when they got young patients. Why were so many young people getting injured lately? Between the MVA's and the gang wars he was amazed half the schools were still populated. How someone could hurt someone so young was beyond him. His mind briefly flashed to Lucy before he banished those thoughts.

Before he could continue his line of thought the ambulance bay doors burst open and a gurney was getting pushed through them. The 16 year old male was lying on the gurney with one of the paramedics feverishly performing chest compressions. Carter followed along side, but for some reason he couldn't seem to snap himself out of some sort of trance.

"16 year old male, flat line" he heard one of the paramedics yell as he saw Mark and Deb approaching them as well.

"All right, how long has he been down?" Mark questioned helping push the gurney into trauma 1.

"Uh, unknown. His mother found him in his room. We've been working on him for 20 minutes though. Gave him two rounds of epi and two of atropine." The paramedic responded.

"Any signs of life?" Deb questioned the paramedic.

"Yeah, we did get him back en route. But we lost him again."

"Okay then, on my count. One... two... three" Mark stated, taking control of the trauma. The boy was then moved from the paramedic's stretcher and onto their gurney. "Right let's hook him up to a monitor. Carter – intubate him." At the mention of his name, Carter snapped out of his daze and looked up at Mark who was staring intently back at him for a second. "Carter! Come on, now! Move it!" he yelled before returning to the patient.

Carter then realised that Chuni was standing next to him holding out a laryngoscope. He took it and proceeded to intubate. "Ok, I'm in" he announced. Suddenly as if out of nowhere it popped into his head. "Wait. Were there any signs of drugs? Suicide?" he stumbled out. Not looking up at his colleagues.

"No, he told his mom that he had a bad headache and was feeling dizzy all day. He went to lie down and I guess he never woke up" The paramedic relayed to Carter.

"Sounds like a subarachnoid haemorrhage." Groaned Mark. The chances of saving this kid were slim.

"His chances of survival are pretty low, right?" Chuni asked. As if reading his mind.

Mark ignored her question, but saw Deb nod in response to Chuni. "He's got no readable pulse." He announced.

"Asystole!" Haleh shouted.

"No spontaneous respiration!" Deb yelled over the persistent beeping noise.

"No response to pain either" Mark exclaimed.

"Ahh. His p-pupils are fixed and, and dilated" Carter again stumbled out.

Mark looked up and for the first time took in Carter's appearance, he looked as if he was having one hell of a time concentrating. "The paramedics got him back en route; maybe we can do it again. Okay! Let's have a high dose epi, a pulse ox and an end tidal CO2 detector." Mark sighed.

Deb took over the compressions as the paramedics wished the team the best of luck and left. "Time?" she questioned.

"17 minutes" Haleh replied, frowning.

"Still no pulse. He's still Asystole." Chuni chimed in.

"Keep trying. Give another 10 of epi." Mark knew that they probably wouldn't get him back, but he wanted to be able to tell the kid's mother – that they had tried everything they could. As if on cue, Jerry's head popped through the door.

"Dr. Greene? The boy's mother just arrived. She's out in chairs. She uh, she wants to speak to someone."

Mark glanced up and saw Carter standing there, again as if he was in some sort of trance._ I wonder what his problem is?_ "Carter? Carter! You wanna go do that? Don't get her hopes up though. Try and tell her that we're trying all we can, but the outlook doesn't look good."

Carter acknowledged what Mark was saying and nodded and headed out of the trauma rooms. What the hell was wrong with him! He kept spacing out all the time. He could hardly focus on what he was doing.

_I really need more sleep._ He thought before making his way over to the boy's mother. "Ma'am, I'm Dr. Carter, I'm one of the doctors who are working on your son-" he was cut off by the mother's interruption.

"My son! How's he doing? Is he okay?" she bombarded him with questions.

"Your son's heart stopped beating, and we are exhausting all of our capabilities to get it started again. We're using intravenous drugs, and we're doing CPR on him."

"Oh my God! Wh-why would his heart stop like that! He's only 16!" she sobbed.

"It seems that he suffered a brain haemorrhage, which then caused the cardiac arrest." Carter always hated breaking the bad news to the patient's loved ones.

"H-how? How could that happen to him!" She looked up at Carter, her eyes full of unshed tears.

"It's possibly from a weak artery. But, you see. The thing is... he's been down for an awfully long time, and the longer that he goes without getting any oxygen; the less likely it is that we can bring him back. I'm sorry"

With that the boy's mother collapsed in the chairs, and started sobbing. Carter gave her a pat on the back, "I'm sorry." He whispered again and headed back towards the trauma room.

"All right, let's hold compressions. Any rhythm?" Mark asked.

"Nope. Still flat line." Chuni replied shaking her head.

"Okay" Mark sighed. "Let's call it – time of death 6:07am"

Carter stood in the doorway of the trauma room. He heard the announcement. The kid didn't make it. 7 minutes into his shift and he had already lost his first patient.

_Terrific._

Mark looked up from the patient and towards the doors to see Carter's retreating back. There's something going on with him. He thought to himself.

Carter slammed the doors to the lounge open and headed towards the coffee maker.

_Failure! Failure! Failure! Failure! Was all that was going through his head. He had failed again. Maybe if Lucy was in there she could have saved the darn kid! Instead of having some failure in there!_ He bitterly chuckled.

He knew he was being harsh on himself, but he didn't care. He had failed again, and now some poor mother had just lost her son. He reached for the coffee pot, but just as he grasped it a sharp pain shot through his skull causing him to drop the pot and clutch at his head. "Ah!" he groaned as a wave of dizziness swept over him. As fast as the pain had come on, it was gone.

Now he stared down at the broken glass surrounding his feet.

_Just great. Now I have to clean that up._ Before he had the chance to even start his cleaning up process the doors to the lounge swung open.

"Carter. We need to have a talk" and with that Carter turned his head and his eyes locked onto Mark Greene's. He couldn't help but notice the serious expression that was on his face.

Please R&R! Thanks :) xo


	2. Careless Whisper

**Chapter 2 ; Careless Whisper**

_~When you try your best, but you just don't succeed. When you get what you want, but not what you need. When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep~_

_

* * *

_"Carter. We need to have a talk." With that Carter turned his head and his eyes locked onto Mark Greene's. He couldn't help but notice the serious expression written on his face.

_Oh wonderful. What does he want now? _"Sure Mark, uh, what's on your mind?" he gave Mark the most innocent smile that he could muster.

"What happened before in the trauma Carter? It seemed as if you were worlds away."

Carter could hear the accusation loud and clear in his voice. "What? No. I was uh, you know... I'm just tired." Carter mumbled not daring to look up at Mark; he decided to busy himself by cleaning up the spilt coffee.

"You're _tired? _Well you do look as if you need more sleep. But are you sure that's all that it is Carter?" the look on Mark's face was a clear sign that he wasn't buying Carter's excuse.

"What! Yes I'm sure that's all that it is! What else would it be?" Realization suddenly dawned over him. Mark thought that he was using again. _How can he just assume that I would go back to drugs, less than a damn month after I get out of rehab! _

"Carter –" Mark sighed and was shaking his head. "–When you were an intern you worked way longer hours, we all have worked longer hours than this. It's never affected your behaviour in a trauma before, _never. _Not like today."

"I-I had a late night last night, so I didn't really get any sleep and... I never, uh, got my morning coffee. There was a trauma as soon as I arrived here; and I never, you know... got the chance to get one." There, that ought to do it. Mark knew how Carter was without his coffee – and it wasn't a pretty sight.

Mark refrained from asking Carter why he had a late night. It wasn't really any of his business. "Oh. Really?" Mark had that look again though. He wasn't buying it, but there was also something else about his demeanour, it was almost as if Mark was challenging him. Waiting for him to say the wrong thing.

"Yeah, really." He said firmly. He was sticking to this excuse, there was no possible way that Mark would be able to prove that this was a lie.

But he did.

"Carter, maybe we should sit down and discuss this." Mark made his way over to the table sitting in the middle of the room; he pulled out a chair and waited for Carter to join him.

Carter never did, he held his ground. He stayed where he was near the bench, and continued wiping at the now clean bench. The spilt coffee was long gone. "No. We've talked about this, you have your reason as to why I was a _little_ off this morning. But i'm fine now, as you can see I was getting my coffee – but I accidently dropped it." He quickly added the last part.

"Your shift started this morning at six Carter." As if this statement solved some great big mystery. Carter was confused now, what did that have to do with anything?

"Uh... Yeah? So?" What could he be getting at now?

"Jing-Mei mentioned that you had arrived at around 5:30 – you still had a half hour before you were due in here, if you so desperately needed some coffee to be able to focus, why didn't you have some at home?"

"I ran out." He quickly added, maybe just a little too quickly.

"Of coffee? Why not Doc Magoo's then? It's right across the street."

_No Mark, not of coffee. I ran out off damn screwdrivers. "_I don't know. Because I, uh, like the coffee that we make here better." _Dammit. What a stupid thing to say. The coffee here was terrible and everyone knew it._

At that Mark laughed "Try telling that to the guys out there." tilting his head towards the door to the admit area.

Carter forced a smile as he tried to laugh along with him. "Yeah..." he trailed off. Still rubbing the drenched paper towel across the bench; all that was left was the puddle on the floor and the broken glass. He knelt down to retain the broken shards, he wasn't really use to squatting like this – especially after the rough night that he had last night; the stabbing in his dream had him feeling as if he had been stabbed all over again. He was now feeling psychological pain in his back as well as the physical pain. Reaching for the shards he winced and closed his eyes as the pain shot through his back. He bit down hard on his lip, trying to suppress a groan as the muscles in his back started to spasm.

"Are you alright there Carter?" Mark asked concern evident in his voice. He hadn't seen the doctor in pain for while now, the sudden onset made him slightly worried.

"Yeah, I must have pulled a muscle in my sleep last night." He mumbled, more to himself then to Mark.

"I thought you said you didn't get any sleep last night?" Mark now looked pretty perplexed.

"I uh, I didn't. I meant like, you know... when I was trying to get to sleep and all; I must have accidently pulled a muscle... or something." Carter didn't like where this conversation was heading. So it was best if he got out of the lounge before Mark could think of any more questions to throw his way. "Anyway Mark, this chat was really riveting and all, but I have charts to catch up on. So I'll, uh talk to you later." With that he quickly headed out of the lounge and towards admit.

"Hey Carter!" Mark yelled out after him "Wait up a sec."

_Ugh. What did he want now? _

"What now Mark?"

"Carter – go home."

"What? No. Why?" Mark couldn't just send him home like that. Well technically he could, but Carter didn't want to go home. He wanted to be as far away from his apartment as possible.

"You're obviously _tired _and it's endangering the patient's lives. Go home and get some rest, you can come back tomorrow at around lunch for your next shift." Mark didn't leave any room for argument as he had already walked off, leaving Carter standing in the middle of the hall staring after Mark.

_This is just peachy._

Carter didn't want to go home – there was nothing for him to do there, he couldn't get any sleep no matter how hard he tried, he didn't want to have to face the nightmares again anyway. They were getting worse day after day. First they were just memories of the attack, memories of Lucy – now those same memories seemed to take on a whole life of their own, creating his own fears and replaying them over and over again. He couldn't deal with that right now. So he opted on heading towards the park, he liked overlooking the river. It had a soothing effect over him.

Once he had arrived at the park he took in the view; there were a few people out. Considering it was still only around 7am. There was a young couple walking their dog together down one of the trails. An older couple were seated together looking out at the river, watching the relaxing stream of water. Carter couldn't help but notice that they were all happy people in relationships. Something Carter longed for.

_I'll never have a family. Nobody would want to stay in a relationship with me for that long anyway; I seem to screw them all up as well. _Carter tried to remember the last time he had a serious long lasting relationship, and for the life of him – he couldn't remember.

Sighing he walked over to one of the vacant park benches. Flopping down in one he leaned his back against the wood. His head had now started pounding – it wasn't like the pain he had felt earlier, this was just a constant thumping. It seemed as if he would soon be developing a migraine.

_From this stupid lack of sleep._His lack of sleep had been causing him a numerous amount of problems lately. His thoughts drifted back to the trauma, what happened in there - still confused him. What happened wasn't due to his lack of sleep – no matter how hard he tried to convince himself of that fact. It was as if he couldn't focus, he couldn't think, he was lucky he remembered how to breathe. _Or maybe unlucky._

Where had that thought come from? Since when had he started thinking that he'd be better off dead. Sure, he hated his life at times. But almost everyone went through those kinds of phases. But did he really want to end it all.

_No, that would be the easy way out – I should be punished for everything that I have done. I shouldn't get to just take away all of the pain, when I feel like it's too much. I should have to suffer. I deserve to feel pain for what's happened; I should have to live and be forced to be reminded of my mistakes daily. __**I should be punished. **_

Carter realised that his thoughts were heading into a dark topic and forced himself to think of something else.

By now his dull headache had turned into a full blown migraine. Deciding that it was best if he went home and drink some fluids and maybe get some Tylenol into his system. Though as soon as Carter tried to stand up a sudden onset wave of dizziness washed over him. His hand shot up to his head immediately as he tried to steady himself. Standing still in the middle of the park, he tried to focus on his breathing – willing the dizziness to subside. After what seemed like ages but was really only a matter of seconds the dizziness had in fact subsided and Carter was now making his way back home.

As soon as he entered his apartment the lights that were previously left on for his late night return made his head feel as if somebody had continuously smashed a baseball bat into his skull – heading straight towards the light switch, he flicked it off and was greeted by darkness. The ache in his head dulled down a bit, but not as much as he would of preferred.

Heading over to where his window was located he hastily grabbed the curtains and pulled them shut, blocking out the offending sunlight. His head still continuing to pound away he made his way into the small kitchen and grabbed the coffee cup he had washed up this morning out of the sink and filled it up with some water out of the tap, the coldness of the water feeling great on the back of his throat as he took a few gulps. Leaving the cup still half full he headed into his bathroom and opened his medicine cabinet. He was flooded with a wave of memories of the times when his hands would be shaking so much from the withdrawal that he would miss the handle a few times, but when he did finally manage to grasp it he practically would tear the door off the cabinet in his hurry to grab the much needed vial of Fentanyl – pushing the memory into the farthest corner of his mind he grabbed the bottle of Tylenol and shook out two tablets. Tylenol in hand he went back into his kitchen and grabbed the cup of water and downed the pills. Leaving the cup on the bench he headed in the direction of his bedroom.

His headache wasn't getting any better, and he knew now that his only option really was to try and sleep it off. He didn't want to have to face the recurring nightmares again – but between dealing with them and dealing with this migraine of his, the nightmares seemed like the better option. How wrong he had been though.

Kicking his shoes off and unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt and loosening his tie he walked over towards his bed and plopped face down onto the mattress. Frowning into his pillow he drifted off to sleep before he knew it.

* * *

_Not like his last dream, it wasn't pitch black – it was the complete opposite. Everything was bright, way too bright. His eyes were still trying to adjust to the brightness. Thankfully though his headache hadn't followed him into his dream, or else this would be one very painful experience. _

"_Hello John." A voice said out of nowhere._

_John tried looking in the general direction that the voice had appeared from, but all that he was greeted with was the bright light. "Who's there?" the voice seemed so familiar, he just couldn't place his finger on who it had belonged to. Though when the owner of the voice appeared in front of him, his jaw nearly hit the ground and he couldn't help but gasp at who stood in front of him._

"_Mom?" What was his mother doing in his dream? This was something completely new to him, he hadn't dreamt of his parents in, well – ever. _

"_Yes that's right John, that's your mother. Hello son." A new voice had appeared now, and the owner was now standing alongside his mother._

"_Dad? W-what are you guys doing here?" His father? What the hell was this about?_

"_We wanted to have a little talk to you John, get some things out in the open." His mother made a move towards him, but stopped herself midway and stayed standing next to his father. _

"_Like what? What do you two have to say, that's so important." _

"_We want to discuss with you, how much we wish that you __**weren't**__ our son." His father's cold voice was completely laced with hatred._

_Now where had that come from, he definitely wasn't expecting that response. "What?" well I guess the feeling was kind of mutual now. He wished his parents were different, more loving and understanding – but he still loved them to some degree, he still longed for their approval. Their respect._

"_Bobby shouldn't of died from Leukaemia John, you should have been the one who got sick. Not your brother. He had so much to give; he would have carried on the family business in pride. Unlike you." _

_Now he was dumb-struck. Did his parents really wish that he had died instead of his brother? "Oh come on! You have to be kidding me – you guys really wish that it was me who had died?" _

"_Yes." They both simultaneously answered him. His mother continued on – "I tried to love you John, once Bobby had passed away. I tried to be a mother to you, but I just knew... I just knew that you were going to disappoint us. That you would be a __**failure,**__ and I can see now that I was right all along."_

"_Me Disappoint you! You disappointed me! I was only a kid! I needed you guys the most then – I had just lost my brother! But you were the worst parents that anyone could –"he was interrupted by a new voice. Another familiar voice._

"_Carter, man hey. Don't speak to your parents like that." The voice scolded him._

"_Dr. Benton!" Now his jaw really had hit the ground. What was he doing here, and more importantly why was he sticking up for his parents!_

"_Carter, hey they did all they could. They tried man, but you were just too much of a failure for them to be able to love you. I don't blame them." Benton had now approached them and was standing beside Carter's father. _

"_You don't what! Dr. Benton you know that's not true! I'm __**not**__ a failure!" Carter was getting distraught now._

"_Yeah Carter, you are. You failed me and Anspaugh. We both thought that you would become a great surgeon, but when the going got tough – you decided to quit and move down to something easier, I mean Emergency Medicine? Who are you kidding! I taught you everything that I knew and then you turn around and throw it away – I wasted my time with you. I can see why your parents never even tried." _

"_You taught me everything you knew? You were a terrible teacher! You practically hated me and thought I was a nuisance – you couldn't wait to get rid of me!" Carter lied, he knew that Benton was a great teacher and he wouldn't be where he was today without him but he was getting more and more distressed with how this was playing out._

"_That's not true Carter, Dr. Benton was a great teacher." Another unidentified voice had spoken up from behind Carter. He spun around to come face to face with the last person he expected to be sticking up for Dr. Benton._

"_Dennis! What are you doing here- Wait. What are you talking about! Dr. Benton was so hard on us, on __**you **__– he made you jump in front of that El Train! I knew it wasn't an accident. It was because of you!" He spun back around pointing his finger accusingly at Benton. _

"_No Carter. It was never because of Dr. Benton." Dennis paused as Carter turned back around to face him. "It was because of __**you**__."_

"_Me! W-what... I never did anything to you! Dr. Benton was the one you were complaining about that night!" Carter's voice had risen with every word that he said._

"_Sure Dr. Benton was a hard teacher – but he had his reasons for it. It made us learn more, make us try harder. It pissed me off at times, but I looked past all of that, and tried to be a good student. Because I was in it together, with my __**friend**__. That was until that night, when I needed you the most! I needed you to stick up for me! I needed you to be my friend – and you betrayed me! It was your fault Carter – no one else's but yours. You failed me."_

_By this time Carter was rapidly blinking his eyes to try and get rid of the tears that were threatening to overspill. "I-I didn't..." he barely whispered. _

"_Oh but ya did Scooter." No. It couldn't be. Not him._

"_Chase?" His voice having gone croaky from the emotion he was trying to suppress._

"_Yup. I can move and talk in here. Which I still would be able to do, ya know if it wasn't for you." _

"_I-I tried to save you Chase. I wasn't the one who made you take that lethal dose!"_

"_Save me?" Now Chase was laughing. "You did everything __**but**__ save me. If you really wanted me to get clean you should have gotten proper help. You shoulda known that you couldn't do it all on your own. I mean hey, look how it turned out for you. You had so much disdain towards me – but you turned out just like me. A junkie." Chase was in hysterics. "You're nothing but a worthless junkie!" he shouted at his cousin. _

"_Carter looked back and forth between his parents, Dr. Benton and Dennis to see them all nodding along with what Chase had just said. They all agreed with him. _

"_I'm not a junkie!" Carter shouted as loud as his voice would allow him._

"_Oh but you are Carter." A new, soft voice claimed._

"_Lucy?" He couldn't hold his emotions back any longer, as the tears started to stream down his face._

"_You took the drugs Carter, to get rid of the pain. What a coward. What I would do to be able to feel again! But I'll never feel anything, ever again because of you! You should be grateful that you can still feel pain." Lucy had approached him and was now standing just inches away from his face. "You killed me Carter and I will __**never **__forgive you for that."_

_Carter looked around at the crowd that was now slowly moving in closer towards him. They were all saying something – but all Carter heard were the next words that flew out of Lucy's mouth._

"_I hate you."_

_It was then that he realised that was what the others were saying, as if it were some sort of chant. He looked around – trying to find some way to escape. They were closing in on him, and fast. He could feel their breath on his neck as they all proclaimed their hate towards him. _

"No!" he screamed jumping forward in his bed. Which he soon regretted as the familiar pounding in his head intensified. He slowly took in his surroundings as he became aware of two things. Firstly was that his cheeks were wet and his eyes were sore. He had been crying. Secondly was the loud thrilling noise that echoed throughout his apartment, it just did wonders on his headache. He realised it was the phone.

Throwing the covers off of his body he tried to locate where his phone was. Following the tune he entered the lounge room and spotted the vibrating, thrilling object on the table next to the door. Picking it up he clicked the green button on the device – "Hello?" he then noticed how hoarse his voice had become.

"Carter?"

Carter held back a groan. "Hi Mark." He was hoping that he would leave him alone atleast until tomorrow when his shift started.

"Carter, you do know that it's 2pm right?" Carter couldn't help but notice the worry in Mark's voice.

"Uh. Yeah, I guess – why does that matter exactly?" Feeling a bit relieved that even though his dream wasn't that pleasant, that he atleast got around 7 hours of sleep. But what was Mark getting at now?

"Your shift started two hours ago."

Carter forced a laugh. "I thought that I wasn't on until tomorrow."

"Carter?" The worry was back in Mark's voice again.

"What? Do I need to come back in today? Was there an accident? I'll be right th-"

"No Carter. There was no accident – but, it is _tomorrow._" Mark interrupted.

"What!" That was preposterous; he definitely hadn't been asleep for what, 32 hours! That was a whole day and a half he had been asleep! He knew he had been tired, but he never knew he was that _tired_, and the headache had still remained – even after 32 hours. Carter frowned at that part of information.

"Carter? Are you okay?" Again the worry evident in his voice.

"Yeah. I'm fine; I must have just forgotten to set my alarm. I'm sorry – do you still want me to come in?" Carter hoped that Mark would give him the day off, as this headache was really starting to annoy the hell out of him.

"How long did you exactly sleep for Carter?"

"Um. The whole time since I had left the hospital..." Carter mumbled and was now looking down at the floor.

"Carter – I don't want you to come in today for your shift." At that Carter smiled, he didn't want them to be any more concerned about his well being if he had gone into work today and then complained about his headache. He heard Mark sigh. "But I do want you to come in to the hospital – I really think that I should get a tox screen done on you Carter."

* * *

Thanks to all the reviews guys. I'm hoping to update this every 3/4 days. That is until around the 11th of October when school starts back up for me - so the updates may be pushed up to once a week. But again, thanks for the reviews! That's what motivates me :) Please continute reviewing, and tell me your opinions on what's happening so far. Thanks again guys!

The song used at the beginning is "Fix You" by Coldplay.


	3. Playing With Fire

**Chapter 3 ; Playing With Fire**

_~I can feel the wheel, but I can't steer. When my thoughts become my biggest fear. I can see the end, it's getting near. I won't rest though until my head is clear~_

* * *

"Carter – I don't want you to come in today for your shift." At that Carter smiled, he didn't want them to be any more concerned about his well being if he had gone into work today and then complained about his headache. He heard Mark sigh. "But I do want you to come in to the hospital – I really think that I should get a tox screen done on you Carter."

"What! Carter exclaimed, quickly becoming enraged. "You think that I'm back on drugs!"

"Honestly Carter I don't know what to think anymore. Your behaviour lately has been off... and well, this is what happened last time. I don't want to take that chance and go back down that road again."

"Take that chance! You could **trust **me Mark! It's not that hard to do!" Carter couldn't believe this, sure he thought that Mark suspected he was using – but he by no means expected Mark to come straight out and say it, and then request a damn tox screen.

"It is Carter. We trusted you back in May and look where that landed us. I have to be very careful when dealing with this matter. I just want to help you Carter, I don't want you think that I'm judging your or anything... I just want the old Carter back. We all do."

Carter couldn't stop himself from muttering "The old me is long dead, Mark."

Mark frowned upon hearing that. "Carter I really think you need to talk to someone as well." The concern was evident in Mark's voice.

"I'm fine! I don't need to talk to anyone! And I definitely don't need this damn tox screen!" Carter's anger was obvious as he shouted the words into the phone. All the shouting that he was doing was only making his head worse, but he ignored the pain as he wanted to get his point across to Mark – and whispering wasn't going to help him much.

"Carter. Either you have something to hide or you don't. Now you either come in here, and get the test done and then if it shows up negative-"

Carter cut him off "When." He said matter-of-factly.

"Excuse me?"

"Not **if **– when. When it comes back negative."

Mark ignored his statement and continued "**If** it shows up negative then we have nothing to worry about, but if it does show up positive, you know you will be heading straight back to Atlanta."

"Whatever Mark. I'll be in there shortly." With that he slammed the phone down onto the table, resulting in a satisfying bang. But unfortunately the loud noise intensified the pounding in his head. Heading into his bathroom he looked at his reflection and wasn't too pleased with what glared back at him.

His eyes were blood shot and his cheeks were a scarlet red colour from the crying that had previously happened. Here he was thinking that he would no longer cry over his nightmares or memories anymore, yet look at the mess he was now. His hair was ruffled and his shirt looked like it needed to desperately be ironed. Deciding to forgo the much desired shower and not keep Mark waiting for too long. The quicker he got this over with the better. Turning the tap for the cold water, he splashed a good amount onto his face. Feeling slightly refreshed he rubbed a hand along his jaw line to notice that he had developed a five o'clock shadow – not trusting himself too much with a razor right now, he opted to leave that task for later as well. After having a quick debate with himself he opened the medicine cabinet and downed two more Tylenol.

Going back into his bedroom he dressed in a new pair of slacks and replaced his dress shirt and tie for a simple black t-shirt. Running his hands through his hair he tried to flatten it down a bit, once he was as satisfied as he would get with his look he donned his shoes and grabbed his keys and left his apartment.

10 minutes later he arrived at the hospital. Heading through the ambulance bay doors he entered the ER and was greeted by Dave Malucci.

"Wow." He whistled, "Carter, dude you look like crap."

Carter simply narrowed his eyes at Malucci and mumbled something sarcastic. "Where's Dr. Greene?" he cut straight to the chase, not wanting to have to stay here any longer then was needed. The loud noises were now starting to aggravate his headache.

"Uh, Exam Room 2 I think... hey! I heard you were late for you shift, have a late night last night aye?" he added a wink and a nudge just for good measure.

Again Carter just narrowed his eyes at Malucci and walked off in the direction of Exam 2 leaving Malucci standing there giving Carter a weird look. Before he had a chance to enter Exam 2 Mark appeared and almost collided into Carter.

"Carter, you're here."

_Really? Thanks Captain Obvious. _"Yeah, even though I don't need to be. But yet, here I am."

"Carter it's just a precaution, and anyway it's part of you contract you signed. You agreed to random drug tests. So here you are." He said handing Carter a specimen cup. "You know the drill."

Carter sighed and headed towards the men's room with Mark close behind him, once they had entered the bathroom the ER staff started their gossip.

"Did you just see that!" Chuny exclaimed.

"See what Chuny?" Deb asked nonchalantly while finishing off her charts.

"Oh I saw it alright." Malucci now bursting out in a huge grin "No wonder he gave me that look when I mentioned his late night last night."

Now Deb was interested, gossiping about who liked who in the ER was one of the fun things the staff liked doing together. "Who? Who?" She eagerly asked.

"Carter..." Chuny started off.

"... and Mark!" Malucci practically shouted, while trying to hold in his laughter.

"No way! I don't believe it." Deb wasn't getting involved with this topic, she grabbed her charts and headed into the doctors lounge to finish them off in peace.

"Uh, what! What did you just say Dave?" Luka had been trying to ignore the discussion that was currently taking place between the staff; he didn't like to participate in the gossip they shared. But this was just too shocking. "Did you just say Carter and Mark?"

"Uh uh. I thought you didn't like getting involved in our gossip." Chuny wagged her finger in front of him.

"I don't. But, but... Carter and Mark!" He was still shocked. He never saw that one coming.

"What about them?" Kerry asked as she approached the desk, grabbing a chart. Completely unaware of what had previously been said. "What are you all doing just standing around, we have patients to see!" with that she shot them a stern look headed back over to where her next patient was waiting.

"Do you think she knows?" Malucci was now watching the door to the men's room, wondering when the two _lovers _would come out.

"Knows what?" Abby questioned as she placed a sample of blood into the tray. Now curious to know what the others were all gossiping about, she walked over to join the group and asked again "Knows what?"

"Uh. Carter..." Luka was unable to finish his sentence, he was still in shock at what he had been told. Sure it could be just a lie, but who would fabricate something like that?

"... and Mark are dating!" Malucci again practically screamed.

"W-what?" Abby incredulously asked. "Carter and Mark wouldn't... I mean they couldn't... I-I mean... wow." She paused for a moment as she let the shock wash over her. John Carter and Mark Greene – dating? "Are you sure?"

Malucci smiled as he started explaining his facts "Mark has been asking where Carter is all day, and then when Carter finally does arrive _late_, I ask him about his late night and he gives me this look. Like he was hiding something, I think he's just in denial though..." his chain of though trailing off.

"Is that all? That doesn't really mean they're dating Dave!" This seemed to snap Malucci out of his weird thoughts he was having about Carter's denial.

"Oh! No there's more. He asked me where Mark was and then once I told him went over to him and then they quickly went into the men's room together... and still haven't came out" he added the last part with a huge grin and glanced over to notice the two men still not exiting out of the bathroom.

"Well... I guess, I'm uh, you know happy for them." Abby mumbled before walking away shaking her head in disbelief.

"Neither can I... hey here they come! And Carter looks pissed!" Chuny whispered grabbing onto Malucci's arm in anticipation at what was about to unfold in front of them.

* * *

Carter entered the men's room quickly followed close behind by Mark.

"You do know that it **will** come up negative right, Mark?" He hoped that his colleagues still had a _little_ bit of trust towards him.

"We'll see Carter."

"Mark you know I wouldn't go back to using... I'm not a drug addict! It was just a one-time thing, I was in pain for my back – you have to understand that. I'm not some, some damn junkie!" The dream that he had, had last night was starting to worry him. Did everyone really think that way towards him, that he was just some _worthless junkie. _

"You don't have to explain yourself to me Carter." Mark tried to give him a reassuring look. But deep down he wanted to know why the younger man had turned to drugs, when he being a doctor and all – should know the risks and repercussions of abusing narcotics. It still shocked him to think of Carter - the happy, easy going med student that he had met all those years back, to now be the man he was today. To think that it all practically changed in one day – Valentine's day. He knew that Carter was heading down that same slope again, he may not be back on the drugs. But Mark noticed the depression had returned, had it even left? He wished that Carter would seek the help he needed before it was too late.

"Well I feel like I have to. You'll never trust me again, I'll always be referred to as the damn _worthless junkie!_" Carter now finished with the cup handed it back to Mark and went to storm out of the room.

"Carter." Mark grabbed his arm spinning him around to face him. "**None **of us hear think of you as worthless or as a junkie."

"Why do I have a hard time believing you." He whispered before yanking his arm out of the older man's grasp and hurriedly making his way out of the men's room.

"Carter!" Mark called after him, but Carter wasn't stopping he walked straight past the admit area – not noticing the smiles all of his colleagues were sending his way. He rushed out of the ER and headed towards his jeep. Wanting to leave the hospital as soon as possible.

* * *

Mark sighed as he saw Carter practically flee the hospital. Did Carter really think that they thought of him like that, Carter was part of their family – they would never, **ever** think of him like that.

He then noticed Chuny, Malucci and Luka all starring directly at him; smiling. "What?" he cast an irritated look their way as he headed up to the labs to get Carter's tox screen results.

Mark had gone up to the labs and told them that the results needed to only be told to him; and no one else as this was a discreet situation. He told the lab tech that once the results had came through that he was to page him immediately. After finishing up in the lab Mark headed back to the ER. He was just exiting out of the elevator when he ran into Peter Benton who appeared to be on his way up to the OR with a patient.

"Peter, could I talk to you for a minute?"

"I'm busy Mark, later." He brushed him off as he was wheeling the gurney into the elevator.

"It's important Peter, it's about Carter."

This seemed to get Benton's attention. "Take him up and get things ready. I'll be up shortly" he addressed to the nurse inside the elevator who shot him an annoyed look. Benton then turned back to Mark "What's wrong with Carter?"

"Nothing's wrong. Well, something kind of is. He's been acting a little off lately. He says he's not getting any sleep, his moods have been deteriorating, he's losing weight – I'm worried about him."

"You don't think that he would...?" Benton trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence. The thought of Carter turning back to drugs made him sick to the stomach.

"I don't know. Honestly I'm not sure exactly. He knows the consequences of what would happen if he was, do you think he would just throw everything away all over again?"

"We didn't think he would start using in the first place either! As you said, it's Carter your mind just doesn't go there, if somebody told me a few years ago that he would he develop a drug addiction, I'd laugh right in their faces. Do you, do you think we should test him?"

"No, I think we should just wait it out. We don't want to push him further away from us." Mark lied, he couldn't tell Benton that he already had tested him and was currently awaiting the results.

"Yeah, that's true. Where is he now?" Benton wanted to have a few words with Carter, see if he could find out what was going on.

"Probably out in the parking lot, he was late for work today, he stopped by briefly before to say that he had overslept and was going home – Peter he slept for _over_ 32 hours yesterday."

"What! He slept a whole day? There's something wrong with him – look thanks for telling me this Mark, I'm gonna go see if I can catch up with him." Benton forgetting all about his awaiting surgery and rushed out of the ER into the parking lot trying to locate Carter, he was starting to believe that Carter had already left and he was too late, he had turned around and was making his way back inside when he heard a car horn going off repeatedly.

* * *

Once Carter was inside his jeep he couldn't hold back the emotion any longer, as he took it out on his steering wheel – pummelling it and accidently blasting the horn a few times. Once his anger had subsided a bit he slumped back in his car seat, closing his eyes and sighing he laid his head back against the soft material. Wishing for this day to be over already. His headache had again returned at full force, the Tylenol wasn't doing much to ease the pain. He was startled by a knock on his window, he looked up to see who had approached him – shocked at who it was, he unzipped his window.

"Dr. Benton?"

"Hey Carter, you okay man? I –" he paused and gave a soft laugh "– I head your car's horn back there."

"Oh. Yeah, I uh accidently knocked it." He sheepishly looked up at his former mentor.

"Repeatedly?" Benton asked with a slight grin.

Carter just mumbled something incoherently in response.

"Look man, I ran into Mark–"

Carter cut him off "Oh and he told you to come after me."

"Noo.." He drawled out for emphasis. "He told me he was worried about you. We all are man." Benton said as he leaned against the jeep.

"Well you don't need to be. Fine I'm." Carter gave a startled and confused look. "I mean _I'm fine_."

Benton wasn't buying it. "You just got your words mixed up Carter." His voice mixed with concern and worry.

"Uh, I'm just kind of tired... It was an accident just." Carter slammed his eyes shut in frustration. "_Just an accident_."

"Hey man, something's wrong. You shouldn't be mixing your words up like that Carter–" Benton said, noticing that Carter was trying to cover it up with an excuse about being tired. How could he be tired after the sleep he just had. It was an obvious lie, something must be wrong.

Carter interrupted him again. "Sorry I've really gotta go. Uh, I'll see ya later." He practically jammed the key into the ignition.

"Carter hey! No way you need to get checked out, get a CT atleast." Benton was now banging his fists on the front of the jeep as Carter reversed out of the parking space and drove off. "Carter!" he uselessly yelled out after the retreating car. Benton stood there as he watched the jeep exit the hospital's parking lot and enter onto the road. Sighing he headed back towards the hospital wondering whether or not he should inform Mark of what just happened.

* * *

Carter half stumbled into his apartment and headed straight for the couch in the lounge room. Making it just in time before he lost his balance all together, he collapsed onto the soft leather and clutched at his head. The pain was intensifying by the minute and the Tylenol would never even be able to touch the amount of pain he was in. Every logical part of his brain was telling him that this wasn't right, he shouldn't be feeling like this. He should of took Benton up on his offer and got checked out, and maybe got that CT done. He groaned as an unexpected wave of pain washed over him. He squinted his eyes shut and tried to block everything around him out. Maybe he should call 911 – No. He didn't need an ambulance. This was just some sort of bad migraine he was experiencing. He tried to convince himself of that fact, but the doctor in him disagreed. He gave up fighting with himself over what was wrong, all he wanted was the pain to stop – and he knew of only one thing that would work. The one thing he promised himself he would never touch again.

Trying to get up off the couch, Carter slowly stood but realised how much of a mistake that was as everything around him started viciously spinning and he came crashing down onto the floor. Just unluckily happening to hit his head on the coffee table on his way down. He laid on the ground with his eyes shut tightly trying to block out the pain that was radiating from his head and the sudden bout of nausea he developed as he had watched the room spin in front of his eyes.

_I can't deal with this._

Slowly making his way into a sitting position he tried to focus on his breathing. _In and out, in and out _– was his new mantra. He kept repeating it over and over again in his head as he tried to stand. Once he had gotten to his feet he tried to steady himself as he carefully made his way over to the kitchen bench. Once he reached the counter he slumped his body onto it as he clung to it for dear life. As soon as the dizziness had subsided a bit he was greeted with the loud thrilling noise of his cell phone. Locking eyes with the offending object resting on the table by the door. He debated about letting it ring out, but then assumed it was either Mark or Benton calling up to check on him – he didn't want to worry them anymore than they already probably were by not answering the call and then being greeted by paramedics minutes later at his door. Taking a deep breath he slowly walked over and answered the phone.

"Hello." His voice came out more as a whisper than anything else. He cleared his throat and tried again; "Hello." He said more clearly.

"Carter?" The voice belonged to Benton.

Yeah? Do you know anybody else with this number?" He tried adding humour into the conversation to make it seem like he was fine. _You should really tell him you feel sick. _He pushed the idea aside without giving it a second thought.

"You just didn't sound like yourself. Carter are you okay? You really should come back into the hospital and get yourself checked out. You know as well as I do that you wouldn't get your words mixed up like that unless there was some underlying cause."

Carter closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing – he could feel another wave of dizziness threatening to overtake him again.

"Carter?"

"Hmm?" Carter mumbled placing his free hand on his head as if to alleviate the dizziness.

"Man you need to come into the hospital–"

Carter seemed to like interrupting Benton today. "Dr. Benton I'm fine really. What happened before was probably due to my lack of sleep, I'm seriously fine." He wished he could believe the words that came out of his own mouth. He doubted the fact that he was fine, he was far from it. He hadn't been _fine _in a long time.

"Whoa. Wait up, wait up. From lack of sleep?" Benton was sick of Carter trying to lie his way out of things. He had a problem, and as much as he wanted to deny it, he knew he did.

"Uh, yeah? I've been having a few problems getting to sleep lately..." Carter finally told someone the truth about one of his problems, before yesterday he was having a great deal of trouble getting to sleep, and staying asleep. But Benton just believed he was lying.

"Carter! Mark said you had slept the whole day away yesterday, man! 32 hours is a **long** time to be asleep for! How the hell can you be _tired_!"

_Dammit. Doesn't Mark ever keep anything to his damn self! _"Yeah... I guess but–"

This time it was Benton's turn to interrupt Carter. "No man, you don't get to _guess_. There's obviously something wrong – you and I both know it, and you need to get checked up."

_I really should get checked out. _But again Carter pushed the thought aside.

"No. I'm sick of you guys needing to test me for everything!" He almost immediately regretted saying that.

"What? What have you been tested for?" Now Benton was confused, Mark hadn't mentioned testing Carter for anything.

"N-nothing... never mind." Carter stammered out.

"Carter." Benton said in that warning tone he had used time and time again on Carter when he was his student. Once Benton uses that tone you know not to mess with him.

"Mark wanted to do a tox screen." It was barely audible, but to Benton it sounded like Carter had screamed the words.

"What!" Benton yelled into the phone, causing Carter's headache to again intensify. Mark had lied straight to his face, he had said that he wasn't going to test Carter – that it would just push him further away, well it looks as if he was right. Mark was going to get a mouthful of just what Peter Benton thought about this.

"Shh. I have a headache." Why Carter just told him that was beyond him. But Benton didn't seem to care anyway, as he continued yelling at him.

"Carter! You better not be using again man! Or I swear to god–"

Carter intersected "I'm not! I've just been _tired _recently and Mark assumed I was using..." He trailed off, not wanting to have this conversation.

"Carter! He wouldn't just **assume** unless he had a damn good reason to!" Benton was slowly becoming enraged, after everything he went through in Atlanta how could he use throw his life away again. Benton noticed that Carter was acting a little more depressed then he usually was, but he wrote it off too stress of coming back to work after rehab – now he thought he was wrong. Mark had noticed something as well. What if Carter really was using?

"The tests will come back negative! I'm not using! I promise!" Carter was now pleading with Benton. "You have to believe me! I wouldn't do that again!" Somehow he couldn't quiet bring himself to believe that.

"Carter, you better hope to god that your tests come back negative then. Cause if they don't, you know you're going straight back to rehab man."

"None of you believe me do you!" Carter was slowly losing what little composure he had left. "Why do I even bother!"

"Carter–" Benton was shocked to be interrupted by the dial tone. Carter had hung up on him. Benton redialled Carter's number to be greeted with the monotone voice recording.

"Hello the number you are calling is currently in use, please try again later." And again he was greeted with the dial tone. Who the hell could Carter be on the phone to just seconds after he had hung up on him?

* * *

So there you go guys :) Who do you think Carter called ? - Please keep R&R! As I said; that's what motivates me :D x


	4. Not An Addict

**A/N: **Sorry guys about the wait, I know I said I would update every 3/4 days. But I've been working this last week non-stop, they don't lie in _ER_ when they say it's a stressful job and very tiring. Running around an Emergency Room is so damn tiring on 8 hour shifts. Aha, and the things that you see.. whoa. There was a guy who was attacked by a bull! Now that was something I didn't expect. Then the amount of drug seekers that come in, that's just wow. Anyways, I hope to be back to normal with my updating. So enjoy this chapter folks :)

* * *

**Chapter 4 ; Not An Addict**

_~The deeper you stick it in your vein. The deeper the thoughts, there's no more pain. I'm in heaven, I'm a god. I'm everywhere. I feel so hot. It's not a habit, it's cool. I feel alive – If you don't have it, you're on the other side. I'm not an addict... Maybe... That's a lie~_

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As Carter had dialled the numbers he hadn't even thought twice about what he was doing. None of his colleagues believed him, they never would again. They all believed that he was a drug addict and he always would be. How could he possibly prove to them that he wasn't, when deep down, Carter didn't even believe it himself. _Once an addict; always an addict._ He'd had the cravings come back ever since the headaches had started up. He couldn't help but remember how good it had felt to get away from the pain, and that's all he could think of. He didn't know how much more of this he could take.

"Hello, you've reached St Andrew's Family Clinic – how may I help you?" the receptionist's voice echoed through the phone. Carter could feel his start to race, he hadn't noticed how sweaty his palms had became as he started to get nervous. He didn't know why he was feeling nervous, but he just couldn't shake the feeling – was he really going to go through this all again? Had he gone through 3 months in Atlanta for nothing? "Hello, Is anybody there?" Screw it. He needed it, and he needed it now. He had tried to fight the cravings, he really had. This pain had just gotten too much for him to handle, and the dreams – oh the dreams, he would finally be free of them, he could go back to having a dreamless sleep. Sleep – he could sleep again! Then his friends wouldn't be worried about him anymore, he could go back to normal! No more nightmares, no more painful memories, no more of these damn headaches – just bliss. Pure heavenly bliss.

"Hello, uh yes, I-I would like to make an appointment with, with Dr. Gordon as soon as possible." His voice came out shaky. He tried taking deep breathes, and tried to focus on what the other woman was saying. But all that was running through his head was the idea of finally getting his hands on some much needed narcotics.

"Name?" the receptionist asked, not seeming to notice the way Carter's voice came out, or just simply not caring. Either way Carter was happy with that. The less questions; the better.

"John Carter, **Dr.** John Carter." He added the doctor part on just to reassure himself that he was in fact a doctor, and that he knew what he was getting himself into _again_.

"Well Dr. Carter, let's see. How does tomorrow at noon sound?"

"Uh. Have you got anything earlier... like, today? It's kind of really urgent." Now that the idea had formed in his mind he didn't know whether he could hold out until tomorrow.

"Sorry we close in two hours, and we're all booked – oh wait, it looks as if you're in luck there was a cancellation at 4pm. How does that sound?"

Carter glanced up at the clock on the wall and noted that it was a quarter to 4 – in 15 minutes he would get what he had been craving for since May. "Yes, that'd be perfect." A huge smile forming on his face, for the first time in weeks, months even.

"Okay then, Dr. Gordon will see you shortly." And with that she hung up.

Carter placed the phone down and then noticed how hard his hands were shaking; it was like he was already suffering from the withdrawals all over again by just thinking about it. He knew his chances of getting a prescription for Fentanyl were slim. They only prescribed the patches, and they wouldn't do. He needed something strong, but for something strong he would have to convince the doctor just how much pain he was in, ah! He had fallen over before, he could claim that his back had been injured and he was in a **lot** of pain. Dr. Gordon was a family doctor he wouldn't think twice about that, and considering how his drug addiction was expunged from his medical history – due to some friends in the medical records. He definitely wouldn't have a problem giving a narcotic to somebody who had just recently been stabbed twice in the back. Everything was going to work out perfect. He had already taken a drug test, and it would come back negative – Mark would feel bad for even suggesting it in the first place and drop the subject. Once he got the narcotics he could go back to his old self again, and they wouldn't suspect a thing – he just needed to be careful about when he was going to go through withdrawal. He would have to make sure he'd take some before his shifts, and he would need to carry some with him at work – so no one would notice his mood changes, if he had missed a fix like last time.

Quickly grabbing his keys and wallet he hurried out the door, ignoring the wave of dizziness that washed over him, he headed straight to his jeep without a minute to spare. He had an appointment with what would soon be sweet, sweet Heaven in less than 15 minutes.

Carter practically sped into the parking lot, almost hitting a parked car. Once finding a vacant spot, he jumped out of the car and paused to take in his surroundings. He looked up at the medium sized building. He could remember coming here when he was a kid and had injured himself, he remembered coming here and hearing the news of Bobby's diagnosis – but most of all he remembered coming here to get his painkillers after the attack. Locking his jeep he started to head towards the entrance but was greeted with an intense wave of dizziness, taking a step back Carter leaned against the jeep – placing his hand on his head he willed his body to get under control. He couldn't go in there swaying all over the place. No doctor in their right mind would administer narcotics to somebody like that; as they would most likely consider it to be the withdrawal of an addict. Glancing at his watch he saw that he still had 5 minutes before his appointment. Leaning his head back against the roof of the car he tried to focus on his breathing and get his body under control. He focused his vision on the clouds up above that were passing by, he tried to figure out what each cloud looked like, hoping this would take his mind off the dizziness.

Shortly the 5 minutes had passed by and Carter was still feeling dizzy, but he had managed to get most of it under control, which was better than nothing. He pushed himself off of his car and walked into the waiting area at the clinic, walking up to the receptionist he told her his name and his appointment time. She gave him a curt nod and told him to wait in the chairs, and that the doctor would be with him shortly.

Carter had just managed to sit down in one of the plastic chairs when a middle aged man called out his name "John, you can come through now." It was Dr. Gordon – Carter hadn't seen him since before the incident in May. He swore he could feel déjà vu. Glancing around the room he couldn't help but remember the last time he was here. It was in May and he was going through withdrawal pretty bad, he needed his prescription filled – but Dr. Gordon had refused, and said that the pain should of subsided. Carter tried to argue that his pain was still there, but Dr. Gordon just suggested a weaker painkiller. Those did absolutely nothing, so that's why he had started stealing the Fentanyl from work.

Shaking the memories from his head he stood up and decided that if he was going to convince Dr. Gordon to fill him another prescription, for a **strong **narcotic he would need to show him that he was in a reasonable amount of pain. Faking a limp he pretended to grimace in pain as he walked into the older man's office. "Dr. Gordon" Carter said nodding in his direction.

Dr. Gordon gave Carter a quick look up and down. "John you seem to be in a lot of pain, is everything alright?"

_It's working. _"I am. I slipped over a few days ago, and my back has been playing up ever since. I think I aggravated my old injury." He added another fake grimace just for good measure.

"Ah, well that doesn't sound too good now does it. How did you slip over?" Dr. Gordon asked.

"Uh, I was at work in a trauma... and once it had finished I, uh, went to leave but I slipped on one of the, the gloves that were on the floor." Carter stammered out. _What a terrible excuse, why didn't I think of something a little bit more... plausible!_

Dr. Gordon looked at Carter quizzically. "I see." Is all he simply said, writing something down on a piece of paper, once he had finished he looked up at Carter. "So what would you like me to do, John?"

_Play it cool. You can't seem too eager to want the pain killers, and whatever you do – don't ask for a specific one. That's what all the addicts do in the ER; but i'm not an addict... so I guess that doesn't apply for me. _"I don't know... I uh, just want to be able to walk around without being in an enormous amount of pain."

"I see. If you fell down at work, why didn't you just tell your co-workers, I'm sure that they'd write you a script for something if the pain was that bad?"

"None of them saw it happen." He quickly added.

"Why would that matter, wouldn't they believe you?"

_Geez. What is this! 20 Questions. _"I, uh. Of course they would. I just didn't want to worry them by telling them that I'm in any more pain. That's why I came to you." He stammered out.

"Okay then John." Dr. Gordon grabbed a prescription sheet and started filling in the details. "I'll write you a prescription for Dilaudid."

_Dilaudid! I suppose that's still good. I've never tried it before... _"What strength?" The words slipped out of his mouth.

Dr. Gordon gave him another quizzical look. "The highest – 8mg."

"Oh, okay. Thanks Dr. Gordon." His hand shaking slightly as he took the script from the doctor. They said their goodbyes and Carter headed out of the clinic, practically running to his car – ignoring the dizziness that had again returned at full force. He had one location in mind; the pharmacy. He just needed to get this filled and then he could go home and get that much needed relief.

Once he was in the jeep he quickly reversed out of the car park and headed to the pharmacy. Almost crashing the car twice, the dizziness was starting to bother him and the headache had now decided to return as well. Taking one hand off the wheel he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to get rid of the now constant pounding in his head. He couldn't wait to get the Dilaudid, he just wanted all this pain – physically and emotionally; to go away.

Once arriving at the pharmacy he illegally parked his car out on the sidewalk, not having the time or patience to drive into the car park and find a park. He grabbed the script and rushed inside, almost knocking a lady over who was exiting. He was disappointed to notice that there was only one pharmacist on duty and that meant that there was a line – he was fourth to get served. The line seemed to be taking forever; Carter had now started bouncing from foot to foot as he impatiently waited. When it finally was his turn to get served he practically shoved the script into the pharmacist's hands. She gave him an irritated look, got his insurance details and told him that it would take a few minutes to get filled.

Carter decided to walk around and browse the store while he waited for his script. In just a few more minutes he would have in his hands something he hadn't touched in 4 months. Something that he had sworn to himself he would _never _touch again. Something he had promised to all his friends that he would never use again. Something that had almost ruined his career, something he longed for every day and night while he was in Atlanta – and now, it was something that he ached for. The anticipation was growing in every minute that went by. Couldn't that damn pharmacist work any faster! As if on cue, he heard her call out his name. "John Carter."

He rushed over to the counter and handed his credit card over, she scanned it and after a little bit of difficulty entering his PIN in because of the current shaking in his hand. He grabbed the paper bag that contained his precious medication and went to leave the pharmacy; he had just made it to the exit when he forcefully collided with somebody sending him backwards onto the ground, and the person he collided with a few steps back. He had fallen backwards and knocked his head against the carpet. "Ahh." He groaned as pain radiated from his head, he had managed to get himself in a sitting position. His hand clutching at his head, his headache was now furiously pounding away and his vision had started to swirl; all he could make out were different coloured blobs. He tried to focus his eyes on what was in front of him – but this only aggravated his headache more, which then of course resulted in the dizziness intensifying. He now felt the familiar nausea wash over him. He couldn't tolerate sitting up any more, as the longer he stayed sitting, the quicker he felt like passing out. He lay back down on the ground still clutching at his head. A group had now started to form around him, wondering why he wouldn't get up. The person he had ran into was standing above him. He heard one of the bystanders ask if they should call 911 – another was asking what had happened, and another one was repeatedly saying his name.

_Wait, what? How do they know my name? _This interested, but mainly confused Carter as he tried again to get his eyesight to focus, things were slowly starting to get clearer he was starting to take in people's appearances; there was a middle aged woman standing next to him, she was asking him if was all right, he ignored her and continued taking in his surroundings. There was an older man who seemed to be talking on a phone – most likely calling an ambulance –_ great. _Then there was the person that he had collided with, they were knelt down beside him; saying his name. They weren't calling him _John_, no. They were calling him _Carter_. This worried him – he tried as hard as he could to focus on them, and then he immediately regretted getting his sight back. He felt his stomach drop as he looked into the eyes of one very pissed off, but also a very concerned man.

He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. _Oh god. I'm so screwed. _Carter closed his eyes tightly wishing that what he saw was just some horrid hallucination he was having from the concussion he probably had endured. He hoped that once he opened his eyes again, that none of this happened – and that he was already at home, and this was just some bad dream, some horrible side effect of the Dilaudid. He reopened his eyes again and realised that it wasn't a hallucination, or a bad dream. It was real, very real. He was still lying on the floor of the pharmacy, paper bag still clutched tightly in his hand. He swallowed hard, and prepared for the worst. He looked into the man's eyes again –

But the look that was in Peter Benton's eyes was unreadable. Although Carter sensed there to be a _little_ bit of anger. Heck, who was he kidding – there was a **lot **of anger. He looked about ready to throttle him.

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Dun, Dun, Dun, Dun! Please R&R :)


	5. Running To Stand Still

Ohhh ! I am soo sorry I haven't updated in like, forever! I've just started at a new school, and I haven't been in school for around 3 months due to personal reasons. So getting back on track was a lot of effort, aha. Plus this is now a private school ! So I had a lot of assignments that had to be handed in last week & this week. Then I have all exams next week, so I will be studying like crazy ! - I hopefully can get back on track for updating this. I finish school on the 26th of November, so after then I should update weekly. But I'm sorry if there's only one more update until then, or if the worse case scenario, I don't update until after I have finished school. Sorry guys, I hope you can continue to stick with me through this story, as I do plan to finish it - I have huge plans for this story :)

- Sorry it's short. I wrote it while I _should_ of been doing my Legal Studies assignment.  
Please R&R! As it does give me inspiration.. :) much love, xo.

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**Chapter 5 ; Running To Stand Still.**

_~Well I'm taking time to realize, I'm making myself sick. With every pill that fills me inside; it makes it harder for me to quit. Just take a moment, let these pills sink in. Now I know I shouldn't be happy, but these chemicals let me pretend~_

* * *

"Dr. Benton?" Carter finally managed to stutter out. He again closed his eyes and laid his head back on the ground. What was Benton doing here? Had he followed him, had he watched him go to the doctors and then followed him to the pharmacy, did he know what was in the bag? He unconsciously tightened his grip on the paper bag still in his hand. Benton couldn't find out that he had just gotten a script for Dilaudid filled. That would be the end of him and his career.

"Carter, hey man. You okay? You must have knocked your head pretty hard. Just stay lying down and the ambulance will be here soon, okay." Benton's angered had disappeared at the moment as his concern for his former student took over. Carter had only made Benton stumble a bit backwards, there wasn't that much force in the collision, but yet Carter was on the floor obviously with a concussion to some degree. He'd watched the confusion wash over Carter's face as he tried to take in his surroundings. He was obviously disoriented to some extent as well.

_Ambulance? _"N-no. I'm fine, no ambulance." Carter mumbled, again trying to sit up – but failing. The room had started to spin again and he found himself collapsed back on the floor. He just wanted to get out of here and go home; once he got some of the Dilaudid into his system he would feel fine.

"Whoa, hey. Take it easy there Carter. You're staying on the ground until the paramedics arrive." Benton placed his hands firmly on Carter's shoulder to keep him from sitting up again.

"Dr. Benton, no. I'm fine... really. I just hit my head, but now I'm fine. Just let me up." Carter tried to push at Benton's chest, to make him remove his hold on his shoulders. Benton didn't budge.

"Carter. You're staying here, and that's final." Benton then noticed the paper bag that Carter had in his hands when he tried to shove him away. "What's in the bag Carter?"

Carter's grip tightened on the bag again. "It's just some Tylenol; I had a bit of a headache." He hoped that Benton would buy his excuse, but who was he kidding. It was Benton after all.

"Let me see." Benton tried to grab at the bag, but Carter stretched his arm out as far as it could from his body, out of Benton's reach.

"No." Carter then tried to roll his body, so that he was lying on his stomach. He succeeded and pushed himself up off of the ground. He tried as hard as he could to ignore the nausea and the dizziness.

"Carter, man. Show us what's in the bag. If it's just Tylenol then you'll have no problem showing me." Benton again grabbed for the bag but Carter moved out of his way and headed for the exit.

"I don't have to prove myself to you all the damn time!"

"Carter!" Benton grabbed onto his arm and spun him around to face him. This just intensified his nausea and dizziness, slamming his eyes shut he tried to fight off the nausea. His arm unconsciously gripped onto his head as a bad wave of dizziness washed over him, almost severe enough to make him collapse back onto the floor. He shook himself out of Benton's grasp and rushed out of the door, not looking back.

"Carter!" Benton called running after him. "Get back here man! You're obviously hurt!" Carter had now approached his jeep, he was glad that he had parked it just on the sidewalk. Throwing the bag onto the passenger seat he climbed into the car and buckled his seat belt. He then started looking for his keys. "Carter! There's no way in hell that you're getting behind that wheel!" Benton tried to open the door, but Carter was too quick for him, he had flicked the power lock which locked all the doors and grabbed the keys and inserted them into the ignition. He turned his head and gave Benton a quick apologetic glance. He then turned his attention back on the road and drove off. "Carter!" Benton yelled, swearing under his breath. He just prayed that he didn't crash the car. It debated about following after him, but decided that it would be best to give Carter a bit of space. He would call to check up on him in an hour or so, and if he didn't answer he would go over to his apartment himself and kick his door down to check up on him. Carter could be really stubborn at times.

* * *

Carter tried his damn hardest to focus on the road in front of him, watching the cars over take him, and him pass them by were really doing numbers on his head. He briefly debated whether or not to get the pills out now and take them, but realised he didn't really want to risk taking his eyes off of the road in his current situation. So he tried to focus his vision on the number plate of the car in front of him and not pay any attention to anything else, just look directly ahead. The car luckily was heading the same way Carter was, and he soon found himself in front of his apartment building. He parked his car in his garage and headed up to his apartment. He swore he could feel the bag burning in his grip. In less than a few minutes he would be inside and the drug would slowly be making its way through his system. He preferred injecting rather than the pills, but no doctor would prescribe a vial of Morphine, Dilaudid or _Fentanyl _– Ahh the Fentanyl. Dilaudid wasn't that much weaker then the Fentanyl but it still would never be as good as the Fentanyl had been. He decided that if he was going to keep this up, he would need to get his hands on a vial of Fentanyl again. Not wanting to risk being caught again at work, he opted to just simply take a vial the next time he was in the drug lockup. They'd notice though, and of course they would suspect that it was him. He would need to try and think his plan out a bit further, but he could do that later as he now had entered his apartment.

Throwing his keys and wallet onto the table he moved over to the couch that he had previously been lying on in agony. He sat down and stared at the bag in his hands for a few minutes. Was he really going to go through with this? Was he really going to throw everything that he had worked so hard to get back away again? He had tried to get his friends to trust him again, but they never did. In their eyes he would always be a _junkie_. Once addicted, always addicted.

With a trembling hand he opened the bag and placed his hand inside, when he came into contact with the plastic bottle it felt as if it had burned him. He quickly grabbed the bottle without a moment's hesitation, pulling it out of the bag he let the bag drop to the floor as he slouched back into the lounge and starred at the object in his hand.

_**Dilaudid, 8mg  
Hydromorphone Hydrochloride.**_

He focused his gaze onto the small print on the bottle, Dilaudid was a narcotic used to treat moderate to severe pain, much like Fentanyl but not quite as strong. Dilaudid was most commonly given to people who had just come out of surgery.

With sweaty palms he twisted the lid off of the bottle and tipped some of the contents into his palm. He stared down at the two round white pills, he didn't even think as he shook the bottle and another three pills joined the first two. Now there were five, which equalled a total of 40mgs worth of Dilaudid.

He took a deep breath and stood up and headed over to the sink and with a shaking hand he grabbed a cup and filled it up with water. It felt like ages as he watched the cup slowly fill up with water, the pills still in his other hand felt like they were burning through his skin. Once the cup was filled with an adequate amount of water he without thinking brought his hand up to his mouth and released the pills into his mouth, he quickly swallowed them down.

He placed the cup back on the sink and slowly turned around, the dizziness came on quickly but was also accompanied by a wave of euphoria. Though it wasn't long before he found himself quickly losing his balance, he was soon face down on the ground starring across the floor at the wall. He hadn't intended on taking such a high dosage straight away, but when the pills fell into his hand all thoughts left his mind as he stared down at the small round tablets. He knew that the amount he had just taken was sure to knock him out for atleast an hour or two.

He swore though that he could hear something, but the thought soon left his mind as everything started becoming distorted. He gave one last heavy sigh before he sank into the long awaited darkness. The last thing he remembered was that he swore he heard banging on his front door and "Dr. Carter" being shouted.

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Pleaseee R&R! :) xo.


	6. Guilty Pleasures

I am so terribly sorry for this SLOW update. I have no excuse for this, I am seriously sorry! I feel horrible. I just have been so caught up in school I haven't had the time, then in January & February I was affected in the QLD floods, my home wasn't directly affected but my town (Toowoomba) was. So I'm sorry for this slow update. It is currently nearly 3am where I am and I have just finished this chapter! This is an extra long chapter, hitting a few hundred over the 5,000 word mark. I hope this makes it up a bit. I expect to be updating more quicker after the first week of April, as that's when my upcoming exams are finished. Please enjoy this chapter and R&R!

**Warning: This content contains suicidal material and suicidal references. If this content is affensive to you in any way, shape or form. I'm sorry and please refrain from reading this chapter. **

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**Chapter 6 ; Guilty Pleasures**

~_Guilt upon the conscience, like rust upon iron, both defiles and consumes it, gnawing and creeping into it, as that does which at last eats out the very heart and substance of the metal~_

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"Dr. Carter! John!"

The constant banging on the front door had now become in sync with the pounding in his head as Carter slowly regained consciousness and took in his surroundings. The first thing that he noticed was the soft feeling against his cheek – his carpet. At first he was confused as to why he was lying on the floor, which was until the day's earlier events came crashing down on him. _The doctor's surgery, the pharmacy, Dr. Benton, the Dilaudid_ – The Dilaudid. He closed his eyes as he realised what he had just done, he had now become what he so desperately wanted to prove to everyone that he wasn't – _a drug addict. _

"Dr. Carter!" the persistent voice broke through the silence that filled the apartment.

"Ye-" was all that he could manage to whisper, his throat felt as if it had been viciously rubbed down with sand paper. Placing his hands on either side of his body he tried to get up off of the floor, his attempts of course were futile as he was met with an intense wave of dizziness that had him crashing back down onto the floor in a heap, causing a sharp jolt of pain to go through his back.

"John! Please answer! Please! Are you in there!" the voice was laced with worry.

Carter had now placed the voice to a face; it was his neighbour Mrs. Palmer. She lived in the apartment just down the hall from him, for about 4 years with her 16 year old daughter, Katie. He hoped that by him not responding to her isn't what caused her to be so worried. His train of thought was quickly interrupted as he heard the ever so familiar sounds of an approaching ambulance. He just prayed that, that ambulance wasn't heading here and that she hadn't called one for him.

He glanced up at the clock on the wall and noticed that he had only been out for around 10 minutes, that was strange. He thought for sure the pills would cause him to atleast be out for an hour at the least. The banging on the door started up again. This time even more determined to make it towards the front door; Carter placed his hands on either side of his body and attempted to raise himself up off of the floor. Fighting back the persistent wave of dizziness that had now accompanied him and ignoring the throbbing that was in his back, he managed to get himself into a sitting position, with his back leaning against the kitchen cabinet behind him.

Resting his head back against the wooden cabinet he listened to the noises that were outside his apartment, he heard the sirens coming closer and closer to his apartment building, which made it a good possibility that the ambulance was in fact heading to his building.

Using the cabinet behind him as his support, he managed to stand up. He soon regretted it though as everything in his line of vision began to swirl together, and he felt the muscles in his back begin to spasm. Placing his thumb and index finger on the bridge of his nose he willed his headache to vanish. Though he knew that wasn't going to be happening anytime soon with the racket that was going on outside. The thrill of the sirens had become unbearable as he heard the Ambulance pull up out the front of his building.

Ignoring the dizziness that know had swept over him, he limped over towards his front door, almost falling against it has he reached the doorknob. He opened the door and gripped onto the doorframe as hard as he could for support.

The sight that greeted him almost chilled him to the bone. The paramedics were rushing up the stairwell headed directly towards the young girl that was slumped against the wall; both of her palms were collecting pools of blood from the gashes on her wrists.

Mrs Palmer was standing next to his door; her shirt was soaked in blood as if she had been carrying the young girl. That's when it hit him; the girl was her daughter Katie. He felt his blood run cold, that's why she had been trying to get his attention; she wanted him to save Katie. He felt his face start to pale considerably. His thoughts were again interrupted by the paramedics.

"Oh Jesus. This looks bad." One of the paramedics stated.

"How long ago did this happen?" The other paramedic questioned.

"I found her about 20 minutes ago, I called the ambulance straight away. I-I then tried to get my neighbour Dr. Carter's attention, thinking that he m-might be able to save her since he works in an Emergency Room. But he never answered, oh my god! Is she going to be alright?" Mrs Palmer managed to choke out, while trying to fight back the consistent flow of tears.

"We don't know for sure yet, the wounds look pretty deep." The paramedic who spoke first explained, as he was applying pressure to both of her wrists to stop the blood flow. Katie's body jumped slightly and she began to vomit up a white frothy liquid. "What the- did she take any medications?" the paramedic, whose name badge stated his name was Alex asked.

"N-no. I d-don't know." Mrs Palmer sobbed out.

"This looks like a pretty serious suicide attempt; she's slit both her wrists and seems to have overdosed on an unknown substance at the moment." The second paramedic mentioned, whose name appeared to be Jason.

"Where is this Dr. Carter you were mentioning ma'am?" Alex asked.

"I-I'm Dr. Carter." Carter half stumbled out, still in shock at what was happening in front of him.

"You're a doctor? Well don't just stand there; we could use all the help we can get!" Jason exclaimed.

"I-I don't think that's such a good idea..." Carter really couldn't deal with this at the moment; if this girl died it would have been _his fault. _If he hadn't of been knocked out on the floor unconscious with drugs in his system, he would have heard Mrs Palmer and came out, and tried to save her daughter.

"Nonsense. Here can you tube her, then start bagging her." The paramedic passed Carter a laryngoscope.

With shaking hands he managed to grab the laryngoscope from the paramedic. He crouched down beside Katie and in that instant heaps of memories assaulted his mind, the first time that he met Katie she had been about 12 years old. She was such a bright young girl, with a positive looking future in front of her. He remembered the time when she told him that she wanted to be a vet.

* * *

"_Dr. Carter do you like being a doctor?" This brown haired, big green eyed girl looked up at him and asked._

"_Yeah Katie I do, I like being able to help people. I'm learning at the moment how to become a surgeon." Carter responded._

"_Wow a surgeon! You must be pretty smart." She smiled up at him._

_Carter just laughed. "What do you want to be when you're older Katie?" _

"_I want to be a vet!" Katie's smile turned into a huge grin._

"_A vet? That's awesome Katie. Why do you want to be one?"_

"_So that I can help all the animals, just like how you help people."_

"_How come you want to help the animals? And not be a doctor, and help people?"_

"_Because silly. The people already have the greatest doctor; he doesn't need any more help. So I think I should be the greatest vet, and help all the animals." _

"_The people already have the greatest doctor?" Carter asked, quite confused._

"_Yes silly! You!" Katie's grin grew bigger._

_Carter smiled down at her. "Thanks Katie. I'm sure you're going to be the world's greatest vet one day."_

_

* * *

_

Carter was brought back into the present by a slight tap on his shoulder. He looked up to the see the paramedic looking down at him with an odd expression on his face, that's when he realised he still had yet to intubate her. He looked down at the lifeless form of the once so full of live teenage girl.

"Dr. Carter are you alright?" Alex questioned, noticing the distant look in Carter's eyes.

"Ye-Yeah. I-I'm fine." Carter mumbled out. The throbbing in his head had intensified, his back was killing him from being crouching on the floor for so long, everything around him was swirling, the dizziness had decided to come back at the worst possible time. The last thing he needed was to pass out in front of some paramedics.

"Here let me do that." The paramedic grabbed the laryngoscope, pushed past Carter and proceeded to intubate Katie.

Feeling like he was just getting in the way, he managed to stand back up slowly. This had caused the pounding in his head to intensify. He placed his hand on the wall behind him to steady himself. His face had once again paled and little beads of sweat were now forming on his forehead. His breaths were coming out shallow and it was taking him a huge amount of effort to try and regulate his breathing. He definitely couldn't let anyone see that something was wrong.

"John are you okay?" Mrs Palmer asked, for the first time she took in his appearance. Saying that he looked worse than what she did at this current moment was an understatement. His face had become deathly pale and his body had a slight tremor to it.

This had gained the attention of one of the paramedics as he looked up and finally took in the doctor's appearance for the first time himself. He noticed the lack of colour in Carter's face and that he was also swaying a bit. As if just on cue, the paramedic quickly jumped up to catch Carter as he came crashing down onto the floor.

"Woah take it easy there." The paramedic shouted as he caught Carter inches from the floor. "Are you feeling alright?" Carter was asked for the third time.

"I-I'm fine. I just need to lie down, that's all." Carter stammered out, feeling quite embarrassed about the whole ordeal.

The paramedic offered to lead him into his apartment, but Carter quickly declined, remembering the bottle of pills on his coffee table. He shrugged out of the paramedics grasp and grabbed onto his doorframe again for support, he then shut and locked the door on the scene outside and stumbled over to his couch. He could still hear the paramedics outside try and save Katie's life. He felt bad for not being able to help, he felt like such a _failure._

After about 5 minutes, he heard the ruckus outside die down, and the ambulance drive off towards the hospital. He should really see how Katie was doing, that's the least he could do, since he couldn't assist in helping save her life. He pushed himself up off of the couch and stumbled towards the front door. Once he unlocked and opened the door he was surprised to see Mrs Palmer still standing there. By the look of it, she was in shock.

"Mrs Palmer, I know it's a stupid question to ask. But are you alright?" Carter asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Mrs Palmer let out a shaky sigh and looked up at him; her face was puffy from the crying and her eyes were blood shot red, her mascara was now following the tracks of her tears, and leaving black streaks down her cheeks. "Do you think she'll make it?" was all the she managed to whisper.

Carter felt like someone had just stabbed him in the chest; the guilt that washed over him was overwhelming. "I-I'm not sure. I didn't really get to see her stats or evaluate her myself, so it's h-hard to tell." He stammered out.

Mrs Palmer sniffled "I understand. I can't lose her John; she's all that I have left." With that she burst out crying once again.

Despite the dizziness that he was experiencing, he managed to make his way towards her and wrap his arm around her shoulders; she lent her head on his chest and sobbed.

"Wait, how are you feeling now John? You looked really pale before." She asked, looking up at him.

"Yeah, I'm feeling fine now." He lied. "It must have just been the shock of what happened." Another lie.

"Well that's good then, anyway I'm going to head over to the hospital, they said that they were taking her to County. I really should have gone along in the ambulance, but I just couldn't you know..." she trailed off, looking down at the ground.

"I understand, would you like a lift over there?" Carter really thought he should check how she was doing. It was the least that he could do.

"Oh no it's alright dear; I need to make a few stops along the way. You should get your rest anyway." She gave his hand a quick squeeze and then headed off towards her room.

Carter stood there standing in the middle off the hallway for a few seconds, just taking in what had actually just unfolded in front of him. His 16 year old neighbour, Katie, had just attempted to kill herself and there was nothing he could do to try and save her.

Sighing he headed back into his room and grabbed the car keys off of the table, he tried hard to resist looking over at the bottle of Dilaudid sitting there. He of course failed, and his eyes lingered on the bottle for a few seconds longer then he would have liked. He quickly tore his eyes away and headed out the door.

Making his way down to his garage, a million thoughts were racing through his mind. _Why did Katie do this? Was she okay? If he wasn't unconscious on the floor, would he have been able to help her? Would Lucy been able to do a better job? Did Mrs Palmer blame him? Would it be his fault if Katie died? _Who was he kidding? Of course it would be his fault. Everything was his fault.

After numerous futile attempts of putting the key in the ignition he finally succeeded and the successful roar of the car's engine could be heard. Reversing the car out of the drive way, he made his way towards the hospital.

He was once again assaulted with an intense wave of dizziness, trying hard to ignore the persistent throbbing in his head that he was now currently experiencing. He tried hard to keep both of his eyes on the road as he desperately tried to take his mind off of the situation at hand. The only thing though that popped into his mind was the image of the now lifeless body of Katie, slumped against the wall, the blood running down her arms. He quickly tried to banish those thoughts from re-entering his mind.

Noticing the hospital up ahead he was amazed to realise that he made it their without causing an accident along the way, mentally giving himself a pat on the back. Maybe this dizziness he had been experiencing wasn't as bad as it once was and everything would soon go back to being normal, well as normal as it could be. As if thinking just on cue, he heard the blast of a car's horn as he felt the impact of the collision at the front of his car.

The impact caused Carter's body to jolt forwards, he hissed as he felt his forehead connect with the tip of the roof of the car, the pain immediately radiated from his now intensified headache. He heard the unmistakeable sound of metal scratching against metal and the smell of burning rubber assaulted his nose as he heard the other car's brakes being applied and the wheels screeching along the bitumen.

The dizziness returned at a brutal force as the car completed an 180o spin, he felt as if he had ruthlessly been tied to a merry-go-round and then been spun as fast as the speed of light. Ok, maybe that was taking it a little extreme. But he sure as hell felt as if he was being spun around pretty fast, and he didn't like it at all.

The car came to a resounding halt, everything seemed so quiet, and he could hear his own breathing, his own heart beating in his chest. But in reality everything was ten times louder, the sounds of sirens could be heard, the sound of the car's engine's dying down, the sound of people gathering around them. But to Carter, everything was quiet except for his own bodily sounds.

He tried to take a look at what was happening, but everything was a dancing swirl of colours; a rainbow. It was as if his vision had been taken away and replaced with dancing rainbows. The sounds were all slurred together and nothing was making any sense at all to him.

Forgetting any medical training he had been taught in the past, he tried to move his body. Or course his body protested to this task and an intense wave of pain washed over his entire body. From head to toe he could feel pain, different levels, but still pain. His head and back were the worst; it felt as if they were on fire. His chest had a dull ache from the impact of the steering wheel and his thighs also hurt from the impact with the bottom of the dashboard.

He felt a warm liquid run down the side of his face past his eye. Instinctively moving his hand towards the source, he groaned as the pain radiated through his shoulder. After coming into contact with the source he withdrew his hand to take a look at the offending liquid. The rainbow of colours still assaulting his vision he squinted his eyes to try and focus his sight; his eyes becoming focused on the ever so familiar sight of the dark red liquid. He was bleeding.

Brushing his hand against his forehead he revealed a trail of blood now along the back of his hand. He must have smashed his head pretty hard against the roof of the car; he looked up and noticed a chip in the window shield. He must've smashed his head into the glass and cut his head in the process. _Just great, I most likely now have a damn concussion as well. _

Fumbling around in his seat he tried to find the buckle on his seat belt. He wasn't going to sit in this car all day; he definitely wanted to be gone before the paramedics arrived. This would most likely be anytime now, since the accident did just take place in the hospital's entrance. Thinking back to the crash, he tried to remember what had happened.

He had been driving along the road, applauding himself on how he managed to keep himself from causing an accident, when this driver sped out of the driveway to the hospital and collided with the nose of his car, causing his car to spin and now face the opposite direction. He wondered how the other driver was doing.

After finding the buckle, he slowly removed his seat belt, grimacing in pain again when he lifted his shoulder. He most likely dislocated it, since it had previously been dislocated only a few years back, when he was out looking for that little girl's father; with Lucy. His mind was then flooded with images and thoughts of Lucy, how hard she had tried to find the man, how good they were working together as a team, how that server at the corner shop thought of them as a couple. Physically shaking his head to rid the thoughts just caused another wave of dizziness to greet him. Luckily for him a voice broke him out of his reverie.

"Sir are you alright? We're going to get you out of there." The paramedic's voice snapped him back to the harsh reality he was currently residing in.

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay." Carter forced out, his own voice sounding foreign to his ears.

"Are you feeling any pain anywhere?" The paramedic questioned, as he crawled into the passenger's seat along side of Carter.

"Uh, j-just in my head. But its fine really, nothing a Tylenol can't fix." He sheepishly looked over at the paramedic. He didn't want them to have to admit him, or try and observe him. All he wanted was to go and see how Katie was going.

"Are you sure? You do seem to look like you're experiencing some pain?" The paramedic was then joined by a second, who handed the first a neck brace.

_Oh god. They're not putting that on me. I'm fine! _"Yes I'm sure! I'm fine, seriously. Just let me get up and I'll show you." Carter went to move, but a firm set of hands stopped him from moving too far.

"Sorry we have protocol to follow, and we can't let you just walk away from this scene. We'll need to have you taken to ER and evaluated." The paramedic left no room for arguing as he strapped the brace around Carter's neck.

"I know the protocol. I am a doctor!" Carter angrily exclaimed.

This shocked the paramedics; they hadn't come across Carter in the hospital before. "Oh really? What type of doctor are you?"

Carter bit back a growl. "I'm an ER doctor, at this hospital." He stated matter-of-factly.

"Oh you work at Mercy?" The paramedic asked the shock clearly evident on his face.

"Ye-wait what? Mercy?" Carter's brow rose in confusion. _Mercy?_

"Yes.. This is Mercy Hospital, in Chicago?" The confusion equally displayed on the paramedic's faces.

"I know what town I'm in. But I could have sworn I was driving to County?" Now that Carter thought about it, he couldn't really remember where he was heading. Was it possible he got the hospitals confused; did he actually drive over to Mercy when he intended to go to County? Why was he getting so darn confused lately. This was really starting to tick him off; he really needed to catch up on his sleep.

"County's a good 10 minutes away. Are you sure you meant to go to County?" The paramedic was now starting to get concerned on Carter's mental status.

"Yes! I'm a doctor over at County General!" Now he was getting angry, why couldn't these paramedics just leave him alone.

"Sir could you please tell me your name?"

"John Carter, **Dr. **John Carter." He all but yelled at them.

"Okay _Dr. _Carter, could you please tell me what day it is?" The paramedic asked.

Carter was at a loss. He had no clue what day it was, then he remembered earlier in the day Mark calling to inform him that it was Tuesday and that he had missed his shift, then the run in with Benton, then the appointment with his doctor, then the drugs, then Katie's suicide. Had all of that happened in the span of less than 12 hours? "Erh. Tuesday?" he questioned.

"Correct, can you give me an estimate on the time?"

Carter quickly calculated the day's events. "Around 5pm?"

The paramedic looked down at his watch and noted that it was a quarter to six. "Correct."

Carter felt as if he was on some sort of game show. "That's wonderful, have I now won $5000 dollars? Do I get a chance to keep the money and leave, or do I have to play on for the million?" He sarcastically asked.

The paramedic just kept the same, concerned expression on his face. "Okay Dr. Carter, we're going to get you transported over to County where you can be evaluated by the doctors over there, since they're more aware of whom you are and what not."

_No! No! No! I can't go to County! _"What! No! I'm fine; I don't need to be checked out!"

The paramedics ignored Carter's whines as they helped remove him from the vehicle. He was then greeted with a stretcher, which Carter blatantly walked past and headed towards the awaiting ambulance.

Hoping in the back along with one of the paramedics he watched as the other one headed over to help with the other driver. He felt the ambulance take off towards its destination. He sure was going to have fun explaining to Mark what had just happened.

"How's the other driver?" His voice echoed throughout the silent compartment.

"I'm not too sure honestly, it's nothing serious. Maybe just a few scrapes and a minor concussion, do you know exactly what had happened?" The paramedic questioned.

"Not really. Just that I was driving along and he came speeding out and crashed into me." Right now though Carter didn't really trust his own memory, for all he knew he could have somehow initiated the accident.

After sitting in silence for a few minutes he felt the ambulance start to slow down and then come to a stop. He could see through the windows on the doors of the ambulance that Mark and Chuny were waiting there with a stretcher. Their faces remained blank; they were dressed for a trauma, so they most likely didn't know that it was Carter inside the ambulance.

The paramedic opened the doors to reveal a dishevelled looking Carter. Mark's jaw dropped open and so did Chuny's as they both stared in shock at Carter who was calmly sitting on the stretcher, dried blood was on the side of his face, his hair was sticking up in different ways, his shirt was creased and covered in specks of blood.

Carter hopped out of the ambulance and said his goodbyes to the paramedic who had handed a clipboard with information on it over to Mark and had gotten back inside his rig.

"C-Carter?" was all that Mark could ask.

"Yup. Hi Mark." Carter plastered the fake smile on his face, as he attempted to act like everything was ok.

"What on earth happened to you!" Chuny exclaimed tearing the clipboard out of Mark's hands, who was still standing there in shock. Chuny quickly scanned through the paper, the words _car crash _and _mental confusion_ stood out to her the most. "Oh my God Carter! Are you okay, here lie down." She grabbed the gurney and pulled it closer to where Carter was standing.

Carter gave a small laugh. "I'm fine Chuny, it was nothing more than a little bump, the car got the most damage." He then tried to walk off into the hospital when Mark grabbed his arm.

"Carter! What the hell is going on?" Mark took a peek at the clipboard in Chuny's hands. "You were in a car crash over at Mercy! Why were you at Mercy?"

"I was just going for a drive, when a car came out and smashed into me, honestly Mark I'm fine." Carter tried to shrug himself out of Mark's grip but his attempts were futile.

"No Carter. You're not fine. It says here that-"He took the clipboard from Chuny and scanned over the contents. "-it says here that you were in a side on collision and seem to be suffering from a mild concussion with mental confusion?"

"They obviously got it wrong. I didn't have any mental confusion." He laughed, trying not to show how nervous he was. He could practically feel the drugs burning in his system. They were still there; he only took them just over 2 hours ago. Any tox screen would come up positive for narcotics.

"It says here you had no idea where abouts you were?" Mark raised his brow at this bit of information. "Carter-" He was cut off.

"No! Mark! No! Don't even go there! I suspect that you have my tox screen results back by now, which would clearly state to be negative to any drug what-so-ever. I am **not** using! I just wanted to go for a drive, and I simply just lost track of time and didn't realise where I had ended up! Mark that's all! I seriously am fine. You have to believe me!" Carter had no idea where the new found courage had came from, but that didn't matter to him. He could see the way Mark's features softened.

"Yes Carter they did come back negative, which I'm sorry for doubting you on." Mark looked down, as if he was actually expecting them to come back positive. "But Carter I really would like to just get you checked out, see how that cut on your head is, c'mon Carter it will take less than 10 minutes." Mark gently headed Carter towards the ER.

He sighed in agree. "Alright then Mark, but make it quick?" he looked at Mark, with his trademark puppy dog eye look.

"Sure Carter." Mark smiled back at him, for a moment there it felt like everything was back the way it should be, until that is that Carter ran into someone in the waiting room.

"Oh my God! John!" Mrs Palmer exclaimed running over towards him, she embraced him in a tight hug. Then pulled back and took in his appearance. "You look terrible! Are you okay?" she noticed the blood on the side of his face.

"Oh y-yeah. I'm fine. Just got into a bit of an accident." Carter looked down; he hoped that Mark hadn't heard about his neighbour.

"Oh dear! I told you not to go driving after you had fainted John, you really should have got some rest, the paramedics even agreed with me." Mrs Palmer was shaking her head at him. "You really should listen to your elders John."

"Fainted? You never told me that you had fainted Carter?" Mark was now looking intently at him. "What's going on?"

"Oh John had came out to help with Katie, but he didn't seem to be feeling so well as when he was talking to the paramedics he collapsed on them." Mrs Palmer stated matter-of-factly still holding onto Carter's arm.

"What! No, I never-" Carter was cut off.

"Mrs Palmer?" Benton asked as he headed over to the groups direction, not noticing Carter yet. Once he had approached them the shock was evident on Benton's face. "C-Carter! What the hell happened to you man!"

"N-nothing-" he again was cut off.

Benton was fuming with anger. "Oh it sure as hell looks like nothing! Carter you-" Benton was now the one to be cut off.

"I've got this under control Peter, you talk to Mrs Palmer and then come and check on Carter." Mark grabbed onto Carter's arm in an attempt to drag him away from the unfolding scene.

Carter was just about to head off in the direction of Mark when the following words attacked his ears.

"Mrs Palmer, I'm sorry to say but Katie has fallen into a coma, the likely hood of her awakening is in the low percent range, maybe 5 to 10% maximum. I'm sorry but there's nothing that we can do, she's been placed on life support until further orders from you."

"What!" Carter yelled, breaking out of Mark's gasp as he spun around quickly to be face to face with Peter Benton's stern face and Mrs Palmer's tear filled eyes. He felt as if his whole world has just came crushing down on him and the pressure was just too much for him to handle. He felt the familiar dizziness come washing back over him as he felt his head drop and his body collapse to the floor. The last thing he was aware of was Benton's voice.

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Again, sorry for the late update! I hope you enjoyed! Please R&R! :)


	7. My Own Prison

Oh wow. This has taken me ages to write. I am SO SORRY. I never imagined I would be given so many assignments at school. Once one is finished another is handed out, in the same class. I have 7 classes. It's practically _hell._ But here is the next installment, it's currently 2am (I like writing late at night) and I have finally finished chapter 7! I didn't end where I had wanted to end, but I noticed it was almost reaching 6000 words so I cut it off short. I'm on school break for the next 2 weeks, so maybe, just maybe the next update will be in the following 2 weeks. If not, then it probably won't be updated until September, when my next break is. Sorry guys. Enjoy ! :)

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**Chapter 7 ; My Own Prison.**

_~I'm standing here alone, the memories remain, the same familiar home, but nothing looks the same. I'm standing here alone, can't tell if I'm awake, reality is gone... in a dream I will escape~_

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"What!" Carter yelled, breaking out of Mark's gasp as he spun around quickly to be face to face with Peter Benton's stern face and Mrs Palmer's tear filled eyes. He felt as if his whole world has just came crushing down on him and the pressure was just too much for him to handle. He felt the familiar dizziness come washing back over him as he felt his head drop and his body collapse to the floor. The last thing he was aware of was Benton's voice.

"Carter!" Benton yelled as he rushed over to the young man's side, he kneeled down on the ground beside Carter's limp form. "Carter! Man, wake up?" he cupped the bottom of Carter's jaw in his palm.

"Can we get a gurney over here!" Mark shouted as he crouched down on the floor besides Dr. Benton who had now placed two fingers underneath Carter's jaw to feel for his pulse; the concerned look that was etched onto his face worried Mark. "How is it?" he questioned, the worry evident in his voice.

"It's noticeable, but it's weak." Benton sighed. "He must've really knocked his head good in that crash."

Malik arrived with a gurney a few moments later. "Is that Dr. Carter!" he gasped taking in the sight before him, Carter was sprawled out on the floor, shirt covered in speckles of blood and Benton and Mark hovering above him, he could feel the tension coming from them in waves.

"Yeah it is. Can we get a backboard over here as well!" Benton didn't feel like dealing with any questions that Malik had on the situation at the moment, as he was pretty confused on what was going on himself and the only thing he wanted to do right now was make sure that Carter was ok.

Malik rushed off to find the back board that was requested, sensing the anger in Benton's voice; he didn't want to piss him off any further. He knew that Benton considered Carter to be one of his closest friends, hell; he was pretty much the only person that he considered his _friend_. He remembered how distraught he had been that Valentine's Day when Carter was injured; Benton sure cared for Carter a lot. He returned and placed the back board on the floor, helping Mark and Benton position Carter onto the board, then proceeded to lift him up and place him on the gurney.

"Let's take him into Trauma 2!" Mark exclaimed, now taking control over the situation at hand.

Once they had rolled the gurney into Trauma 2, they grabbed a hold of the board and slid Carter onto the awaiting gurney. Benton had just started attaching the pulse ox when Carter awakened. Taking is his surroundings he was displeased to notice that he was in the trauma room, the next thing he noticed was a concerned looking Mark and Benton hovering above him, attaching various cords and objects to him.

"Stop!" Carter croaked out, his voice sounding like sand paper. He removed the offending device from his finger and proceeded to sit up. The whole world flipped upside down as he tried to stay sitting upright, he felt as if his head was tied to a thousand bricks and all he wanted to do was lie back down and rest his head on the soft, cushiony gurney. He didn't though; he couldn't show any weakness to Mark or Benton, that wouldn't work in his favour – he had to make them believe that everything was alright.

Bitting his lip to bite back a groan, he swung his legs off of the side of the gurney and attempted to stand up. This quick movement caused the pounding in his head to return at a horrific force and the dizziness crept back up on him, causing everything in his line of vision to swirl together and make dancing colours appear in front of him once again. He closed his eyes as tightly as he could and he willed it all to go away.

Opening his eyes again slowly he noticed that everything was now standing still, everything was now taking place in slow motion. The sounds throughout the hospital's corridors sounded like distant thumping noises, Benton's voice came out slurred and slowed down. All he could make out was his name being slurred from the surgeon's lips. He needed to get out of there, fast.

The fact that he had no car came crashing down on him; he had no way of leaving. He was trapped there, caged in. The room started to slowly spin around him; it was taunting him, showing him how bad things had escalated. His colleagues were sure to notice how bad off he was, they'd do tests on him and the results would come back and ruin his career, ruin his already breaking friendships and ruin the last little bit of his life.

"Hey Carter, it's okay. Just lie back down on the gurney." The worry was evident in Benton's voice. He placed his hand on Carter's arm, the contact made Carter feel as if he was getting burnt with a scalding hot piece of metal. It felt as if his arm was about to combust into flames. He instinctively pulled his arm out of Benton's grasp.

Nothing felt normal to him. His thoughts were racing a million miles an hour, the room kept on spinning around him, his vision kept blurring in and out of focus, he felt as if he was placed inside a sauna and the heat had been placed on the highest setting and he felt like he was going to throw up any minute now.

He doubled over and clutched tightly onto the side of the gurney with one hand, as the other wrapped protectively around his abdomen, with his stomach being empty all that he was bringing up was bile. The acidic taste lingered in his mouth as he registered an emesis basin being placed underneath his face. He shot a side ward glance in the direction that the basin had appeared from and noticed an even more now concerned looking Mark starring right back down at him.

He felt Benton approach him on the other side and lay a hand on his shoulder; the familiar burning sensation was felt almost immediately. Screwing his eyes tightly shut, he tried to block everyone and everything around him out, he focused on his breathing '_in and out' _was his mantra that he would repeat inside his head.

"Carter easy now, it's all going to be ok, here lie back down on the gurney" Peter had now grabbed a hold of Carter's arm and was edging him back towards the gurney, he felt Carter try and fight back against him. "Carter don't be so damn stubborn. You need medical help, now lie down." He added a bit more pressure onto his grip and managed to get Carter to lie down. Mark was still holding the emesis basin underneath Carter's mouth in case he decided to be sick again.

Carter was completely embarrassed. He had just shown to three of his colleagues that he wasn't doing so well and he had made an idiot out of himself and thrown up in front of them. All he wanted was to crawl under a rock and forget the world. Using as much of his strength as he could he pushed aside the dizziness and fought back against Dr. Benton, he was surprised to see that he still had some strength left in him, he managed to sit himself up. "I'm fine" he practically spat out, he knew they didn't believe him, he didn't believe the words himself. "I just need to go home." He then tried again to stand up, this time more effectively than last.

"No Carter, you're not fine. There's something wrong, you've got one nasty concussion there and you need to stay here and let us check you out, run some tests, get some blood work, just see if everything is running smoothly" Mark said, adding a smile onto his face. It was so obviously forced.

_Tests? Blood work? There is no way in God's name that I am letting them get any of my blood or run any tests on me. They'll find out about the Dilaudid, they'll find out I'm using again and I'll be sent back to Atlanta, to that hell of a place! There is no way I am being institutionalised again! I've got to get out here and fast._

He could feel the Dilaudid practically burning through his veins with every second that he spent sitting there "No." He realised he said that a little more hastier then he would of preferred. "I'm signing out AMA if you have a problem with that, call a lawyer, but I'm leaving." With that he pushed past Benton and headed out of the Trauma room and into the hallway, he could hear that Mark and Benton were hot on his trail, they were practically about to step on his heels.

"Carter, please. Just stay and get checked out, how do you plan on getting home? You crashed your car, remember?" Mark shouted at him like he was a child.

_Of course I don't forget crashing my car, how the hell could I forget that! _

"I'm not a five year old. I'm going home and you can't stop me, I'll call a bloody cab!" He turned around and shouted at them, the words just made the pounding in his head intensify but at this moment he honestly didn't care, he just wanted to leave. He stormed over to where the payphones were located, shoved his hands in his pockets and then stared blankly at the phones. "Got any change?" he turned and looked back and forth between Mark and Benton, his face was emotionless.

Mark felt his eyebrows rise at the question, after all of _that_ he was now asking for spare change? Before he could respond he noticed Peter reach into his pockets and pull out some coins and hand them over to Carter's now outstretched hand.

"Here." Peter said, his voice equally emotionless as Carter's face.

Carter took the coins and placed them inside the payphone's slot. The sound of the machine collecting them was ringing in his ears, he felt the familiar feeling that he had before in the Trauma room start to rise up again, he couldn't have another episode like that with Mark and Benton standing behind him, he just couldn't. He took a deep breath and focused on the buttons in front of him, racking his brain for the cab company's number.

"13 ecab, so that's one double three, triple two." Benton said, sensing Carter's discomfort.

"Thanks" he half mumbled out as he pressed the buttons and heard the familiar ringing. The other end was picked up a few seconds later and a foreign voice greeted him.

"Hello?"

"I'd like a cab to County General" forgoing all greetings and getting straight to the point.

"Sure one will be there shortly"

"Thanks" he then placed the phone back on the receiver and turned around to face his friends. He came face to face with a $20 bill being shoved towards him by Benton. "Arhh.." was all Carter could say, the confusion clear on his face.

"To pay for the cab, I'm guessing you don't have any cash on you." Benton's emotions were still unreadable.

"Thanks, but I can just go inside and get some money and pay him when I arrive at my house.." Carter looked away, refusing to take the money, refusing to put himself in such a position. He didn't need any _help._

"Carter just take the damn money." Benton thrust his hand towards Carter; anger was evidently starting to rise up inside of him. Why did Carter always have to be so god damn stubborn!

Sensing Dr. Benton's anger Carter reached out and took the money, he crumbled it up into a ball and shoved it into his pockets, he mumbled thanks and headed past them towards the exit. This time he was relieved to find that they weren't going to follow him, but he also felt a little saddened. They were just going to let him leave like that, he could be dying for all they know and they're just going to let him leave. Of course it was what he wanted, but it still hurt a little.

Pushing the ambulance bay doors open he stepped outside and took a breath of the cold air. It felt better than the stale air inside the ER. He could feel their eyes burning into his back, they were watching him. He debated about turning around, but he didn't want to give them that satisfaction, so he instead just stood there wishing the cab would hurry up.

A few seconds later the cab slowly drove up to the curb, those seconds seemed like hours to Carter. He couldn't bring himself to turn around and face his colleagues, so he hopped straight into the cab. He mumbled his address to the driver and faced away from the hospital, deciding to look out the window, as the cab pulled out of the hospital he watched the houses and the trees all blur together as he passed them by. Before he knew it the cab had arrived in front of his apartment complex.

"That'll be $12.30 thanks." Came the man's scruffy reply.

Carter shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out the scrunched up $20 note Dr. Benton had given him, he looked down at the faded green note for a few seconds, just letting everything wash over him. He handed the note over to driver, took his change and headed towards his building.

The smell assaulted him as soon as he stepped off the elevator onto his floor. The smell of copper invaded his senses and the tangy taste lingered in his mouth; blood. He rounded the corner down the hallway to his room and he came face to face with two unmistakeable small puddles of dried blood on the carpet. He imagined Katie lying there, with Mrs. Palmer trying furiously to bring her daughter back to life, he imagined how she must of been shouting out to him for atleast a good 10 minutes, wanting him to come help her, to save her daughter's life. He didn't though, he didn't come help, he didn't save that 16 year olds life all because he was too busy being passed out on the floor. He could feel the anger start to build inside as he walked past the blood stains and jabbed his key into the lock.

He slammed the door behind him as hard as he could and tossed his keys onto the nearby table. His familiar headache had returned, he clenched his eyes tightly shut and squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. After a few seconds had passed he reopened his eyes and the sight that greeted him caught him off guard. He was staring at a collection of smashed glass shards on his floor, looking directly above them he realised that someone had smashed his window. Heading over to where the window was he inspected the remains, there looked to be droplets of blood on the window pane and sure enough, there were more speckles of blood on the broken pieces of glass on the floor.

He cautiously turned around slowly, facing his back towards the window. He scanned his apartment for any signs of an intruder, he was relieved to find that it looked like whoever had entered his apartment was no longer there. Turning back around he looked out of the window and noticed that whoever broke in must have climbed up the fire escape. That's when it hit him, he slowly turned around facing his back towards the window again. The speckles of blood didn't just end where the glass was located, there seemed to be a faint trail of droplets leading over towards the lounge.

When he reached the lounge he felt his body go cold. He felt his face pale considerably and his hands had begun to tremor. "No" was all he managed to whisper out. "It can't be." He shakily reached his hand out to pick up the piece of paper that was lying on his coffee table, next to his overturned bottle of Dilaudid.

* * *

"_John, _

_I am so sorry. _

_I had heard mum talk about you being spaced out some days because of the strong medication you took for your injuries. I researched the drugs that she told me you took, I found out that an overdose would be fatal and I realised that this was the only way that I could truly be free. I guess I'm writing this to you to apologize for using your medication and partly because my mother would never understand what I'm feeling and why I went through with this. But you, i've noticed how you act lately and how vacant your eyes look. I swear it's like looking in a mirror when I look at you. I hope you can overcome your demons John, don't be weak like I was. _

_Katie. "_

* * *

He hadn't realised he was crying until he felt the water splash onto the piece of paper. It wasn't just any ordinary piece of paper. This was Katie's last thoughts, this was her _suicide note_. He wondered if she wrote anything to her mum or if he was the only one to get a glance into what Katie had been hiding. He folded the piece of paper up and slumped down into the lounge behind him, his vision resting on the overturned bottle.

_This was my fault. It's my fault that she's in a coma. The gashes in her arms didn't look too deep, blood transfusions would of helped her. It was my pills that caused her to be at the brink of dying. My pills! If I never relapsed and went and got them, she wouldn't of overdosed on them! She wouldn't have been lying in that hospital bed! Dying! Her mother wouldn't have to watch her only daughter die! I just killed another person today. _

"Arghh!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. He felt the sound echo throughout the abandoned apartment, the sound bouncing off the walls. He dropped his head into his palms as he felt the familiar emotion start to well up, he tried as hard as he could to hold back the tears but he ended up failing. All of the suppressed emotion came rushing out, his thoughts were racing a million miles an hour.

He took a deep breath and looked up, the overturned bottle in his direct line of sight. He felt his breath shake as an idea formed in his head. There was no way that he would be getting any sleep after tonight. He reached out and grasped onto the bottle, it felt a lot less heavier than it did previously.

_It was probably because half of the contents are missing. _

He brushed the though aside and peered inside the bottle. There looked to be atleast 6 or 7 pills sitting at the bottom. Without a second of hesitation he tipped the bottle upside down onto his palm. He glared at the pills, there were 7 of them. Chewing on his bottom lip he debated about what was about to happen, he could either try and get to sleep by himself, facing all of the horrible memories of today. Or he could resort to taking the pills and passing out into a blissful slumber, as if that was even debateable.

He stood up and clenched his hand into a fist, trapping the pills inside his hand as he walked over towards the kitchen. The glass he had previously used was still sitting on top of the counter. He refilled it with some tap water and headed into his bedroom. He kicked his shoes off and placed the cup and the pills on his bedside table, this time he wanted to be somewhere comfortable when he fell asleep.

Looking down at his outfit he grimaced. His shirt had speckles of blood on it from his head wound. Unconsciously he reached his hand up and felt at the wound, it still ached now and then, but it was nothing compared to the usual headaches he faced on a daily basis.

Ripping the shirt off he threw it in the corner of his room, he kicked his pants off as well and chucked them in the same direction the shirt had previously gone. Grabbing a pair of baggy tracksuit pants and an old faded black t-shirt, he quickly pulled them on. Once he was satisfied with his appearance he headed back out into the lounge room, the smashed window catching his attention immediately. He would need to call somebody in to fix that someday soon. He headed over towards his door and checked to make sure that it was locked, once he was satisfied with that he headed back towards his bedroom, making sure all the lights were off on his way.

He could feel the anticipation running through his body. He couldn't wait to get the Dilaudid back into his system. He hopped into his bed and grabbed up all of the pills, they felt like they weighed a tonne as they sat there in his palm. Picking the glass of water up with his other hand he chucked the pills into his mouth and swallowed them down all at once. Placing the glass back on the table he rolled over and clutched onto his pillow. He could feel himself start to become lightheaded and before he even realised it he was unconscious.

* * *

Strips of sunlight danced around the bedroom through the gaps in the blinds, making the room look like a jail with the black and white stripes they formed on the bed and the walls. The digital clock pronounced that it was 11:13am and that Carter had successfully slept throughout the night.

He slowly opened his eyes, waiting for his surroundings to register. He realised that he was in bed, he had slept through the night with no problems, no nightmares, no frequent tossing and turning. After the previous day's events he thought for sure that he would be presented with numerous nightmares.

"I feel.. _great._" He smiled to himself, his headache was gone, his dizziness was gone, he wasn't completely tired and he felt like going into work today to show his colleagues just how _fine _he was.

Throwing the covers off he cautiously stood up, he didn't want to rush things and be confronted with the dizziness. He was pleased to note that there was in fact no dizziness what-so-ever. He grabbed some clean clothes and headed towards his bathroom. Deciding to forgo looking into the mirror, he immediately hopped straight into the shower. The warm water rushing over his body felt great. After a few minutes he stepped out and proceeded to get dressed for work, once he was dressed he couldn't resist taking a peek into the mirror, so he turned around and glared at his reflection. His hair was still damp from the shower and was now sticking up in various directions, his face was extremely pale and the dark circles under his eyes stood out even more against his pale skin. There also seemed to be a small bruise starting to form where he had previously hit his head. This caused Carter to frown.

But he wasn't going to let that bring him down, he felt the happiest he had felt in a long time. He headed into the kitchen and decided to make himself a cup of coffee, he knew he wasn't on actually suppose to work today, but he wanted to show Mark and Benton that he was still his old self and that they had nothing to worry about. Even if he wasn't needed there he could atleast show them that he is feeling ok and that everything is back to normal. Smiling to himself he proceeded to make his coffee.

10 minutes later, coffee finished and he was heading out the door. He grabbed his phone, wallet and keys and took off towards the elevator, whistling as he went. He reached the lobby of the building when he realised that he had no way of transport. Biting back a groan he refused to let this damper his mood, he got out his phone and dialled the familiar numbers into it. After telling the cab where to pick him up from he walked outside and waited for his lift to arrive, while he was waiting he noticed that it was a sunny day today, the sun was shining and there wasn't one cloud in the sky. He felt a smile spread over his lips. He looked down his street and noticed that there were some kids outside playing in one of the yards and a man mowing his lawn in another. He never really had taken the time to observe his neighbourhood before.

The familiar vehicle was heading towards him, slowing down as it reached his residence. Getting inside the cab he asked to be taken to County General. Leaning back in the seat he smiled to himself, he had a feeling that today was going to be a good day. He couldn't explain why he was suddenly feeling more cheerful than usual, the only thing that could explain it was if the drugs were still affecting him.

Once the cab had arrived at County he handed the driver a $20 and told him to keep the change. Standing there for a few seconds, he looked up and took in the hospital's appearance. It was roughly around noon and there didn't seem to be any emergencies at the moment. Heading towards the ambulance bay doors he took a deep breath and braced himself.

There were a few people waiting in chairs, some looked to be injured while others looked to be waiting for their family member or friend. He could hear the familiar sounds echoing throughout the halls, the clang on metal and the smell of antiseptics filled his senses. He closed his eyes for a brief second, taking his surroundings in. The sound of yelling in the distance caused him to open his eyes and notice Mark and Dr. Benton arguing over something heading towards the doctor's lounge. They didn't look too happy.

Deciding to ignore that for now, he headed towards the admit desk. "Hey Chuny" he added a smile without even having to think about it.

"Carter!" she exclaimed, shocked. "What are you doing here today? Is everything okay?"

He laughed the first real laugh he had in ages. "I'm fine. I just came in today to see when I was next on and see if I could help out."

"Oh well it doesn't look like you're on until th-" Chuny was cut off as Mark slammed the door to the doctor's lounge shut and started heading towards the admit desk, he was yet to notice Carter.

"Chuny have the results on Mr. Albe- Carter?" Stopping mid sentence, he was now staring perplexed at the young doctor who was standing beside him at the admit desk. "What are you doing here?"

He sighed "Why does everybody seem to be asking that? Last I checked I had a job here." He realised he had gotten a little more defensive than he would of liked. "I'm just here to see when I'm scheduled on next and to see if I can help out." He added, giving Mark a smile as well.

"You're not on till next week, Friday at 6pm. I gave you the rest of the week off. We don't need any help today Carter, it's best if you went home. So Chuny have the results on Mr. Albertson came back yet?" Mark sternly replied to Carter, giving him a look that warned him not to push his luck.

"Not yet Mark, Luka said there was a slight problem with the –" again Chuny was stopped mid sentence. This time due to Carter.

"Next week! Why next week! I'm perfectly fine to work today, or tomorrow! I don't need a week off. **I am fine**." He all but yelled, adding emphasis on his last sentence. He was trying hard to keep his anger in check, who did Mark think he was!

"Carter don't argue with me. You're not on until next week and that's final. Chuny tell Luka to notify me when the results are back and to fix whatever his slight problem was." With that Mark grabbed a chart and went to collect his next patient, leaving a very angry Carter behind.

"He had a bad morning, don't take it personal" Chuny whispered.

"Why did he have a bad morning?" Turning around to face her he realised that she was no longer standing at the admit desk and was now over helping with a patient. Sighing to himself he decided that the only option he had left was to go home.

"Carter!" That voice sounded familiar, turning around he spotted Dr. Benton walking towards him. "Carter hey man what are you doing here today?"

Biting back a groan of annoyance "I just came to check when I was scheduled on next." The hostility was evident in his voice.

"Why are you so pissed?" Benton asked raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not." This time he added one of his trade mark fake smiles.

"Aw yeah." Benton knew he was lying, anyone could tell that. "Look Carter I wanted to talk to you about yesterday."

"I don't want to talk about yesterday." He tried brushing past him and heading towards the exit but Dr. Benton had grabbed a hold of his arm, stopping him from leaving.

"Carter." The warning was clear, this wasn't optional.

He sighed loudly, trying to show his unhappiness with the current situation. Benton just ignored it and gave him a slight push towards the doctor's lounge that he had just came out of.

"Here let's talk in private." Dr. Benton stood there holding the door open waiting for Carter to enter the lounge. Carter sent a glare towards him as he walked past and sat down on the sofa that was situated in the middle of the room, Benton joined him a few seconds later on the sofa.

"So would you like to explain to me what happened yesterday?" Benton asked, getting straight to the point and not trying to sugar coat anything.

A little taken back by the blunt question Carter mumbled out "You know what happened yesterday."

"Ah but no I don't. Why were you at the pharmacy yesterday?"

_The pharmacy. Crap. I thought he had forgotten about that run in. Dammit of course he hadn't forgot, that's not something one just forgets. _

"Why were _you_ at the pharmacy?" Carter immediately regretted saying that. Now it looked like he had something to hide, well he did. But he didn't need Dr. Benton finding that out.

Benton raised his eyebrow. Carter was definitely hiding something and he was going to find that out. "I picked up some cold and flu tablets, my sister's sick. Now Carter why were you?"

"I got some Tylenol. I had a really bad headache." That sounded believable.

"This was before the accident wasn't it?"

"Uhh yeah. It was." Where was Benton going with this?

"So what caused the accident?"

"The other car." He replied sternly, that accident was in no way his fault.

"Why were you at Mercy?"

Before Carter got a chance to reply they were interrupted by Dave popping his head in. "Hey you two, chief wants us all to attend some seminar prevention thingo they have upstairs."

"What prevention, seminar, _thingo_?" Benton asked, obviously confused.

"No idea. I just got told by Jing-Mei to round you up. I think it's some _suicide prevention_ they have going, due to the recent suicide or something along those lines, I don't know. Just go upstairs, ok?" with that he had disappeared.

"That sounds fun, but I guess I should be heading home." Carter said a little too quickly, practically bouncing from the sofa and heading towards the door. Dr. Benton was right behind him though.

"Carter wait up, I think you should come to this." Yet again was the warning in his voice, this was something else that wasn't going to be optional. "I really think you should." Dr. Benton grabbed a hold of Carter's upper arm and gave him a slight tug towards the elevators.

This was the last thing Carter wanted to do. He didn't want to hear some person rattle off the statistics of suicide and the warning signs of it. He couldn't listen to that, not after Katie, not after his own thoughts that he had. But the look in Dr. Benton's eye suggested otherwise, he was going to have to go to this seminar even if it killed him in the process. Sighing, he followed Dr. Benton towards the elevators.

_Well this is going to be just wonderful. _With that thought came the end to his current good mood.

* * *

**Please R&R! **It really does make me feel like this is actually going somewhere :)  
Thanks guys, hope you enjoyed it :)


	8. Whiskey Lullaby

Oh god, I am so sorry I haven't updated in forever. I've finally had time, I've finished school until February so hopefully I can get a few more chapters in by then. I have my last year of school left, so I will only be able to update this during my holidays. I hope you still continue sticking with this however, as I am not even a third of the way finished this story, there's plenty more twists and turns.

* * *

**Chapter 8 ; Whiskey Lullaby**

_~We watched him drink his pain away, a little at a time. But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind, until the night he put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger..~ _

* * *

This was the last thing Carter wanted to do. He didn't want to hear some person rattle off the statistics of suicide and the warning signs of it. He couldn't listen to that, not after Katie, not after his own thoughts that he had. But the look in Dr. Benton's eye suggested otherwise, he was going to have to go to this seminar even if it killed him in the process. Sighing, he followed Dr. Benton towards the elevators.

_Well this is going to be just wonderful. _With that thought came the end to his current good mood.

"Why on earth are you dragging me along to this?" Carter outwardly sighed as he slid into a seat beside Dr Benton who had just sat down beside Luka.

"Malucci said that Weaver wants us _all_ to attend the seminar and since you work here, I believe that includes you. Also I think it's beneficial that you hear whatever this man has to say, you know it might help you understand more clearly what happened to your neighbour or something."

_Hahaha. More clearly? Really Dr. Benton, you think that this seminar will help me understand more clearly! Out of all of these people in this room I think I understand the most about what it's like to wake up every morning and feel so incredibly disappointed that you had in fact survived the night. If anything this seminar is just going to open up a multitude of doors that I would prefer stayed close. _

Instead of saying that out loud to the man beside him, he opted to sigh and sink further into his seat instead. Trying to focus his thoughts on anything other than the topic of ending one's life, that plan however failed as a scratchy voice spoke a little too loudly into a microphone.

"Good morning folks, I'd just like to take the time to thank you all for coming along today and for the hospital board for inviting me to come and speak to you on behalf of this unfortunate time. My name is Greg Brandon and I will be your guest speaker for roughly the following next two hours." The man on the stage stated as a spotlight focused onto his figure.

"Two hours! Oh you have got to be kidding me!" Carter groaned in a hushed tone and glanced over at Dr. Benton who replied by rolling his eyes at Carter and continued to listen to the speaker. Carter sunk back further in his seat and sighed again, focusing his own gaze on the man on the stage.

The man who said his name was Greg looked to be in between his mid thirties, his hair was thinning and he had some slight stubble on his face. He was dressed pretty professionally with a suit jacket and tie and Carter noticed that the man liked to move his hands around a lot when he spoke.

"Now I know that a lot of people in the world consider suicide to be a taboo subject and not many of us like to discuss the topic, but the fact is, it's becoming a major health problem. In 2007 suicide was the tenth leading cause of death in the United States, accounting for a whopping 34,600 deaths. Now if you think that figure is huge, there's an estimated 11 suicide attempts per every suicide related death. So that then means that a total of roughly 380,600 people attempted suicide in the year of 2007 in the United States alone. Now since then that number has in fact just continued to rise, with not enough people aware of the warning signs to look for so that they can decrease that number dramatically."

_That means that for Katie's attempt, 10 other people will follow suit and another one person will die. _

Carter closed his eyes tightly and proceeded to bite down hard on his bottom lip and tried to focus on the pain that was now radiating from the area to try and distract himself from where his thoughts were heading. He didn't seem to notice the sideways glance that Dr. Benton was giving him.

"Now the warning signs are different for everyone. Some people will display all the signs and it's easy to spot that they're in a difficult place. But then there are others, who tend to not display much at all and try and cover up how they're feeling by acting like everything is okay. I'd like to now explain to you a few of the important warning signs to look for that indicate somebody might be considering ending their life. A warning sign is very important to notice as it can provide a much needed chance for family, friends and health professionals to intervene and potentially prevent the suicide from happening."

Looking back up at the man on stage Carter started at him intently. _Fuck you and your warning signs. Nobody saw Katie's did they? Who intervened and saved her. Nobody, that's right. Fucking nobody. _

"Firstly there is the straight out threatening to hurt or kill themselves. If someone ever mentions to you that they're going to kill themselves, do not take it lightly; ever. This is their cry for help, it's best to take everything they say seriously and to act promptly and to notify a health professional."

_Who goes and says that they're going to kill themselves? That's like asking to be saved. If you really wanted to end your life, you wouldn't want to be saved. I know I wouldn't tell anybody what I was planning, I wouldn't want somebody to come and "intervene" _

"Some other crucial signs to look for is if the person has became withdrawn from their friends and family, expressing feelings of hopelessness, expressing feelings of anger or rage, engaging in reckless behaviours, increased use of alcohol or substance abuse, abnormal sleep patterns – either sleeping too much or too little, dramatic changes in mood and appearance, giving away possessions and saying goodbye to family and friends."

Closing his eyes again he rubbed his left hand against his forehead in a soothing manor, trying to steer off the fast developing headache. _I need to get out of here, soon. _Biting back a groan he opened his eyes and tried to focus his vision back on the man on stage who was still rattling on about the importance of "warning signs."

"Although most people show a few of these signs from time to time, especially when they are tired, stressed or upset, just because a person is showing a few of these signs doesn't mean that they are considering suicide. However is someone is showing several of these signs at the same time it is important to respond quickly by talking to the person and enlisting the help and support of others and health professionals."

Benton by now had been intently focusing his gaze on Carter. With every word that came out of the speaker's mouth he related it his former student sitting next to him and that worried him greatly, even though he would never let it show. The younger doctor however was really concerning him as of lately.

"Now as important as it is to notice the warning signs, it's also very important to notice if the person has experienced their tipping point or not. Now I know a lot of you out there are all thinking to yourself, what's a tipping point? Haha, well a tipping point is the point at which a person's risk of taking their own life dramatically increases due to the occurrence of some precipitating event, such as a negative life event or an increase in symptoms of a mental disorder. Tipping points vary for every individual, but there are some indicators of times at which people may be under particular stress. These indicators can give an important early warning of the potential for someone to take their own life and they are referred to as triggers. These include mental disorders or physical illnesses, alcohol or substance abuse, feelings of interpersonal loss or rejection or the experience of a potentially traumatic life event. Tipping points can be thought of as that final straw that may lead someone who has been considering suicide to take action."

_Oh I passed my fucking tipping point a long, long time ago. _Carter outwardly sighed, causing Benton to glance over again in his direction and be unsatisfied with the sight in front of him. Carter was slumped back in his seat, watching the man on stage through half closed eyes; his face was blank – completely void of any presence of emotion.

"Examples of events and circumstances that may act as a tipping point include an argument with a loved one or significant person, the breakdown of a relationship, the death of a family member or friend, the suicide of a family member or friend, a media report about a recent suicide, the onset or recurrence of a mental or physical illness, unexpected changes in life circumstances and experiencing a traumatic life event such as abuse, bullying or violence."

Benton shot Carter another side wards glance as he noticed the younger man shifting around in his seat uncomfortably. He watched as Carter placed his elbows on his knees and lowered his face down into his palms, unconsciously hiding his expression from Benton's concerned gaze.

"Now that I have told you about how to identify the warning signs, the next thing that is important to know is how to respond to a warning sign. There are five steps that you should take once you suspect someone to be suicidal, firstly you should remove access to any objects that could be used in a suicide attempt and don't leave the person alone. Secondly you should assess the situation by asking questions such as does the person have a plan to take their life and do they have the means to carry it out, if so the person is at a high risk of suicide and you should seek immediate help by calling 911, if the person does not have a current plan they are at a low risk of suicide and you should talk to them about their suicidal thoughts and develop a plan together to keep them safe."

_Again, why would you tell somebody you had a plan. If I ever decide to fucking kill myself, I'd lie and say that I was fine, I'd never even once mention the fact that I wanted to die. _

"Thirdly talk to other people that the person you're concerned about knows. Talk to their friends or family members and see if they have noticed anything out of the ordinary. Fourthly don't panic, if someone you know is showing warning signs of suicide or has reached their threshold try not to over-react. Simply talk to the person, assess the situation and respond as quickly and efficiently as possible. Lastly, give the person hope. Tell them that there is help available and things will get better. Tell the person that you will always be there to help them through their hard times. It's important that you show them that there are people that care about them."

Carter lifted his head up from his hands and slumped back into the chair, sighing again. He tilted his head to the side and placed it on his shoulder, he felt his eyelids grow heavy and they slowly began to close. The sound around him began to get softer and more distant as he found himself chasing after sleep until all that was heard was the deafening sound of silence as he had fallen asleep.

"...Now I hope all this information has been useful to you all and you are now more aware to the inner battles some of your colleagues and closest friends could be fighting. I'd like to thank you all for coming and listening again." With that Greg placed the microphone down and walked off the stage as the roar of applause was presented.

Benton looked over towards Carter and noticed that he was asleep, sighing he placed his hand on Carter's shoulder and lightly shook him. "Carter, hey man wake up."

The first thing that Carter noticed when he opened his eyes was that he was in a strange environment, he looked towards the sound of the voice and saw an annoyed looking Dr. Benton. "Oh, I must have fallen asleep." Carter said sheepishly as he looked away from Benton's gaze.

"Yeah I noticed that Carter, come on the speech is finished we can leave." Benton said rising to his feet and stretching out his back. Sitting in those uncomfortable plastic chairs for two hours wasn't exactly the greatest thing. He then realised that the amount of pain his back was in was probably nothing compared to what Carter had probably experienced with his previous back injury and all.

Carter rose a little too quickly from the chair and was immediately greeted with an intense wave of dizziness, as his vision darkened momentarily he felt his body sway he reached out and placed a hand on Benton's shoulder to steady himself as his other hand gripped onto his head.

"Woah, you okay Carter?" Benton asked, worry evident in the surgeon's voice. He placed his hand on Carter's shoulder also to help steady the younger man.

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay. Just must have been sitting for too long, haha." Carter plastered his fake smile on his face and gave a slight laugh to try and lessen Dr. Benton's concern.

Benton just nodded in response and the two then exited the seminar and headed towards the elevator, as they approached the elevator Carter noticed that Mark was also standing there waiting for the elevator. _Oh this should be great._ Carter ducked his head, hoping this would give the sign that he wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone.

"Hey Peter what'd you think of the seminar?" Mark asked, not yet noticing Carter.

"Yeah it was alright, it gets you thinking though." Benton said and unconsciously looked towards Carter, causing Mark to follow his gaze and notice Carter's presence.

"Carter? I thought I sent you home hours ago?" Mark questioned, wondering why on earth the younger doctor was still here.

"I... erh, I was heading home, when Malucci mentioned that there was some seminar Kerry wanted us all to go to and I you know, wanted to head home and all... but Dr. Benton insisted that I join." Carter mumbled, not meeting Mark's gaze.

Mark was about to reply when the elevator arrived and the three men plus some other doctors walked into the elevator carriage.

"Hey Mark can I speak to you for a minute downstairs?" Benton asked, his gaze still partially focused on Carter.

"Yeah sure Peter." Mark replied, giving the surgeon a confused look.

The elevator soon arrived at the ER and Mark walked over towards the lounge with Benton and Carter following close behind. Mark walked into the lounge and Benton turned to face Carter. "Hey man, could you just wait here for a second, I just want to talk to Mark quickly about something. I'll be back shortly, ok?" and with that Benton followed Mark into the lounge, leaving Carter standing in the hallway by himself.

_Oh that's always a good sign._ Carter leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. He just wanted to go home and forget the whole entire seminar that he had just listened to. He was right when he thought the seminar would just open doors that he couldn't handle being opened right now, and he needed to find a way to close them before anything escaped and ran loose inside his mind.

* * *

Mark walked over towards the coffee machine and proceeded to make himself a cup. "Do you want one Peter?" Mark asked reaching for a second mug.

"No, no it's alright." Peter said shaking his head, he walked over towards the lounge chair that was placed in the middle of the room and sat down. "I want to talk to you about Carter." He decided to get straight to the point.

"Oh what about Carter?" Mark asked, pouring the coffee into a mug and stirring it.

"I think he should be rostered on for tomorrow." Benton said bluntly.

"Why exactly? I think it's best that he has a week off, he's just been in a car accident and also his neighbour who I believe was friends with him, has just attempted suicide and is in a critical condition. I don't think he exactly should be working right now." Mark stated as he took a seat beside Benton on the lounge.

"I know, I know. But also, I'd prefer him to be at work then to be at home for the entire week by himself." Peter made sure to put emphasis on the last word, hoping Mark would catch on.

"I think Carter can be trusted to be home alone by himself Peter?" Mark was now confused, he raised an eyebrow in response and took a sip of his coffee, the aroma filling the room.

"Mark please, just trust me. Carter can be trusted by himself, but I'd just prefer if we kept a closer eye on him. He has you know, actually just experienced a _trigger_ or _tipping point_ or whatever the man referred to it as." Peter said, getting annoyed. He had hoped Mark would be more understanding of the situation at hand.

"You think Carter's suicidal?" Mark asked, now he was very confused. He had been concerned about the younger man lately, even requesting a tox screen, but he had never suspected that Carter was thinking about ending his own life. Had he said something to Peter?

"I don't know, Mark, honestly. I don't know. He doesn't seem to be, he's probably just going through a rough patch, dealing with his friend's suicide and what not, I don't know. He has been acting differently before that happened though, so I don't damn well know. But what I do know is, he needs to be at work so that we can watch him more carefully. I'm not going to let anything happen to him again." Benton could feel the anger rising with each word he said, he'd be damned if anything happened to Carter again when he had the chance to prevent it.

"Alright, alright. I'll place Carter on tomorrow at 6pm." Mark sighed, looking down at the liquid in his mug, he knew that Peter was right. If anything happened to Carter they'd never forgive themselves, they weren't there for him last time and now they needed to be. "You can tell him that he's on tomorrow. I'm sure he'll actually be thrilled to hear that. He was angry that he wasn't on all week."

"Thanks Mark, I'll go tell him now." With that Benton turned and left the lounge and was immediately greeted by Carter leaning against the wall, eyes tightly shut and he looked as if he was mumbling something repeatedly under his breath. "Carter?" Benton slowly asked.

Carter's eyes shot wide open and he practically jumped out of his skin at the mention of his name. "Oh Dr. Benton, sorry, I didn't know you were there." Carter looked down at the floor and studied the patterns intently, trying to not notice Benton's worried look on his face.

"That's fine, hey man I just spoke to Mark and it turns out that you're shift starts tomorrow at 6pm." Benton said, closely watching for Carter's reaction.

"Oh, I thought I wasn't on until next week?" this caused Carter to look up and lock eyes with the surgeon, concern and worry were clearly seen in Benton's eyes, but all that could be seen in Carter's was emptiness. For the first time Benton noticed the dark circles that had formed under Carter's eyes, they contrasted well against the lack of light in his eyes also.

"You weren't, but Mark decided that he should place you on. Is that ok?" Benton asked, surprised at Carter's lack of a reaction. He thought he'd be thrilled that he was now placed on to work, instead of having to mope around at home by himself in his apartment.

"Yeah that's fine." Carter shrugged, he really didn't care anymore if he was on or not. He suddenly didn't really care about anything.

"Right.. hey man what do you say we go out and get something to eat, I'm starving." Benton asked, trying to get Carter to atleast communicate some more with him. He had hardly spoken to him in awhile and he wanted to know how he was doing. He wanted him to open up to someone.

"Oh thanks, but I'm going to have to decline. I'm really tired, I think I'll just go home and sleep since I have work tomorrow now." Carter turned and headed towards the exit, not even deciding to say goodbye.

Dr. Benton just watched his former student turn and walk off, he wanted so desperately to grab his arm and stop him, make him come and get something to eat, hell he looked as if he hadn't eaten in weeks anyway. Then he remembered something the speaker had said at the seminar. Withdrawal from friends or family was one of the warning signs they were told to look out for, could Carter be giving this warning sign off? Benton just sighed and decided to head back to work, Carter would be in tomorrow night and he would keep a close eye on him then. Until then there was nothing he could do.

* * *

Carter walked outside and called the familiar cab number, a few minutes later the cab had arrived and Carter gave the address to a local car yard. Once the cab had arrived he payed the fair and headed towards the entrance, he looked around for a few minutes at the different vehicles before he was approached by the salesman.

"Looking to buy a new car?" the man asked, grinning widely.

"No, just want to rent one until mine's fixed. It was in an accident." Carter stated, completely emotionless. He spotted a car out of the corner of his eyes, it was a Porsche Carerra. Carter was never one for the expensive cars, he found them pointless, the cheaper ones were just as efficient, but there was a first time for everything. "How much a week for that one?" he nodded his head in the direction of the Porsche.

The salesman whistled, "Oooh, the Porsche, now that one is $1800 a week. Pretty expensive, but she's a beauty ain't she."

Carter just nodded, "I'll take it." Maybe driving recklessly in a sports car was the kind of therapy that he needed right now.

The salesman was a tad shocked, he hardly had customers renting anything over the $1000 mark. This caused him to grin widely and he hurried off to get the paper work that needed to be filled out, after about 30 minutes of explaining the terms and conditions, Carter placed a deposit on the car and was handed the keys.

"Now you have fun with that one." The salesman said as he grinned again. Carter just again nodded in response and walked over to the Porsche.

Driving out of the car yard, he smiled to himself. He pushed his foot harder on the accelerator and watched the red needle on the dash fly past the numbers, he was soon approaching 110km/h when he decided to slow down. The joy that he had briefly experienced was gone, his head was thumping and all that was rushing through his mind was how easy it would be to swerve his car into the oncoming traffic, how easy it would be for all his pain to be gone forever. How he wouldn't have to keep living this lie that he called life. How so many people could finally be happy because his presence would be removed from the earth. He closed his eyes for a split second and let go off the steering wheel, he felt the car starting to swerve towards the oncoming traffic when he gripped onto the wheel and jerked it back into the correct lane.

_I can't kill myself. No. I don't fucking deserve to die. I deserve to be punished and I deserve to have to life this nightmare, day after day. Why should I get relief, I don't deserve it. I don't deserve to be rid of my pain, I deserve to feel pain, because that's all I cause other people, sounds fair that I should be forced to feel it also._

The lingering thoughts of suicide were still present in his mind however, but he had managed to push them back though and he was now focusing on how he planned to spend his night. He had no more Dilaudid left and he definitely didn't trust himself alone with his thoughts tonight. Maybe he should have taken Dr. Benton up on his idea for dinner. Suddenly though an idea hit him and with one destination in mind, he set out on arriving there in one piece.

He pulled up out the front of the building, parked and locked his car and headed towards the entrance, the electronic doors opened as he approached them and beeped once he walked through them, alerting the clerk that he had entered the shop. Heading down one of the aisles he stopped in front of one of the fridges and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels. The bottle felt cool in his palm and just holding onto it seemed to calm him down. He headed towards the register and placed the bottle on the counter.

"Just this one sir?" the clerk asked, scanning the bottle's barcode. "That'll be $39.95"

Carter handed over a $50 note and collected his change and bottle and left the store. If he couldn't have the drugs, he would have to substitute with alcohol. He needed something to help him sleep and to shut the voices in his mind up.

Driving home, he was pleased to notice that the voices inside his mind hadn't been throwing ideas of driving into other cars around in his head. It was an almost silent drive home inside his head, except for the occasional thought about how he was disappointing his colleagues and friends by going down this path again. Abusing drugs and alcohol, when had everything gotten this bad he wondered.

Arriving home he parked his car in his parking space and headed up to his apartment, trying hard to ignore the blood stains on the carpet outside his door, he jammed the key in the lock and slammed the door shut behind him. Leaning against the door he breathed a sigh of relief. He was finally home.

Walking into his bedroom he kicked his shoes off, and changed into more comfortable clothing. Sitting on the edge of his bed he looked down at the bottle in his hands, undoing the cap he put the bottle to his lips and let the alcohol rush down his throat, the warmth settling in his stomach. He continued drinking from the bottle for the next five minutes until there was only about 1/3 left. He knew that, that amount of alcohol consumed in that short period of time would sure be enough to allow him to fall asleep easy, he placed the bottle on his bedside table and stood up, he felt the room begin to swirl as the alcohol was reaching his system. Pulling the covers back on his bed he slipped under them and closed his eyes tightly, all he wanted was sleep - non nightmare filled sleep. His wish was soon fulfilled as he found himself drifting off.

* * *

The persistent banging on his front door awoke him from his slumber, he looked over at his alarm clock and was surprised to see it was 10am. He had slept through the night with no disturbances, he looked over at the bottle of Jack Daniels and smiled. His smile soon disappeared though as the knocking returned, the first thing that flashed through his mind was when Mrs. Palmer was outside his door furiously knocking to get him to come out and save her daughter. He shook the thought from his mind and headed towards the door.

He was disappointed to notice that he had a slight migraine forming and his dizziness had also decided to return at full force. Balancing himself on the wall to stop himself from falling over he looked through the peep hole in the door and felt the colour drain from his face considerably at what he saw. He could feel his entire body begin to slightly tremble as he reached out and opened the door to be greeted by two stern looking police officers.

* * *

**Please R&R! :)**  
What do you think will happen next ?


	9. If Tomorrow Never Comes

**Newest chapter, I have a few more weeks before school starts, so if people are still interested in reading this story I will try and upload at least one more, maybe two more chapters before I am back at school :) **

* * *

**Chapter 9 ; If Tomorrow Never Comes.**

_~One minute I held the key, the next the walls are closed on me. I discovered that my castles stand upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand. It was a wicked and wild wind; it blew down the doors and let me in. Shattered windows and the sound of drums, people couldn't believe what I had become~_

* * *

He was disappointed to notice that he had a slight migraine forming and his dizziness had also decided to return at full force. Balancing himself on the wall to stop himself from falling over he looked through the peep hole in the door and felt the colour drain from his face considerably at what he saw. He could feel his entire body begin to slightly tremble as he reached out and opened the door to be greeted by two stern looking police officers.

Before he could even open his mouth the older officer spoke, "Are you Dr. John Carter?" the officer's name badge stated that he was Officer Braddock.

"Uh yes, yes that's me." Carter said raising an eyebrow, confused as to what was going on.

"Well we'd just like to ask you a few questions regarding your neighbour Katie's recent suicide. It's just some routine questions, nothing to worry about. Do you mind if we come in?" The younger officer asked, whose name badge stated that he was Officer Parker. He stepped forward towards the door, indicating that Carter didn't really have an option on letting them in or not.

"Oh yeah, sure." Carter moved out of the doorway and allowed the two officers to enter his apartment and almost immediately regretted it.

"What happened here?" Officer Braddock asked, tilting his head towards the shards of broken glass covered in blood and the smashed window. "Did you have a break in?"

Feeling his face pale even more, "Erh.. was just a minor break in. Nothing major, nothing was taken." Carter shrugged heading towards the kitchen. He needed to get the two officers to leave the lounge room, the last thing he needed was them finding the empty bottle of Dilaudid at the end of the blood trail from the window. Turning around he felt the last bit of colour leave his face as he noticed that's exactly what the officers had found.

"What's this exactly?" Officer Parker asked, holding the bottle up to the light that was streaming in from the broken window and examining the label. "Dilaudid?" he questioned.

"Yeah, yeah it's Dilaudid. I'm prescribed it for a back injury." Carter quickly turned his back on the officers and faced the kitchen, he hoped the officers hadn't notice the colour fade from his face. "Ah would either of you like something to eat or drink?" he asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

"No thanks Dr. Carter, hey Braddock isn't Dilaudid the drug that was found in Katie's tox screen?" Carter's breath immediately caught in his throat as he heard the words come out of the younger officer's mouth.

"Actually Parker, yes, you're right. It was Dilaudid." Officer Braddock looked over towards Carter. "Any idea how she would have gotten a hold of such a drug Dr. Carter?"

"Nope, no idea." Carter said, a little too quickly for the officer to like.

"You are aware Dr. Carter that whoever broke into your apartment left a blood trail towards this very table." Officer Parker slowly said, he was beginning to tread in dangerous territory.

"Yeah... and?" Carter asked, not liking where this conversation was going.

"It just so happens that this bottle of Dilaudid was sitting on that very table." Officer Braddock added in, giving Carter an accusing glare.

Shrugging off the glare he received, "The Dilaudid was only placed there last night when I got it out of the medicine cabinet. It wasn't sitting there when the person broke in to my apartment, if it was I would have called the police to report the break in." Carter turned around to face the officers and leaned his back against the counter behind him.

"Wait you never reported the break in?" Officer Parked questioned, now becoming curious himself.

"No, no I didn't. I've been busy with work and I just haven't had the time, and honestly nothing was stolen so I didn't see it as a huge importance." Carter shrugged.

"So someone just casually breaks into your house and you don't even think twice about reporting it!" Officer Braddock was starting to get angry with him, he knew there was something Carter was hiding. He just couldn't figure out what it was just yet.

"Dr. Carter are you sure the bottle of Dilaudid was placed in the medicine cabinet?" Officer Parker asked, noticing something off about the situation.

"Yes! I am sure it was placed there." Carter sighed, beginning to get annoyed.

"Was there any signs of blood leading towards where the Dilaudid was placed?" the younger officer asked with an unreadable expression on his face.

"What? No." Carter was now definitely annoyed. _What's this damn officer trying to imply here. _

"Then how come Dr. Carter there's a slight amount of blood on the side of the bottle?" the look that fell across officer Parker's face was still unreadable, but the look that fell across officer Braddock's was the one of a child who had just won the main prize at a carnival game.

Carter's eyes slightly widened at the question, not expecting it at all. "Ah, I must have accidently smeared blood on it from my hand when I had been inspecting the window.. look I don't know, but can we please hurry this up, I have places I need to be this morning." He of course was lying, he had nowhere to be until 6pm that night for his shift, but they didn't have to know that. The sooner he got rid of both of them the better.

Officer Braddock narrowed his eyes and looked at Dr. Carter with disdain, "As you wish, but we will be taking this bottle back to our forensics team and they will find out whether or not you're telling the truth." Officer Braddock then walked over to the lounge chair and positioned himself in the middle; his partner walked across and joined him in the adjoining arm chair to his right a few seconds later. "Please come sit Dr. Carter." Braddock nodded his head towards the empty arm chair to his left.

Sighing he headed over towards the two officers and sat in the vacant arm chair, the leather making familiar noises as he placed his weight in the chair. "So what can I help you with?" he asked, sinking back further into his chair. He just wanted this to hurry up and be over with.

"Where were you Tuesday afternoon between the hours of 2pm to 4pm?" Officer Parker asked, trying to take control of the situation at hand. He could sense that his partner was becoming annoyed with the answers that the doctor was giving.

"I-I was at home _asleep_." Carter knew asleep wasn't exactly the correct word for what he was doing. Maybe something along the lines of _completely out of it in a drug induced state_ would have been more accurate, but he sure as hell wasn't in a rush to tell the police officers that bit of information.

"Right, so you were asleep, off in good old dream land while Mrs. Palmer was outside your apartment knocking on your door and screaming and desperately pleading for you to save her daughter's life? Is that about right Dr. Carter?" Officer Braddock spitefully asked, he was sick of Carter's lies.

Anger flashed through Carter's eyes at the older officers tone, who the hell did he think he was and what was he trying to imply? Was he trying to blame Katie's death on him? _He thinks I killed her._ "Yes that's right, look I am sorry but I think that it's time that you go. I really have a lot of things I need to do today." With that Carter stood and headed over towards the door and opened it for the officers who were still currently sitting in the lounge chairs.

"Very well then Dr. Carter, but just so you know, this isn't finished." Officer Braddock said, his tone almost bordering on threatening. The older officer strode through the door leaving his partner behind in the apartment, confused as to what had just taken place in front of him.

"Dr. Carter I'm sorry about my partner, don't take it personally. He's just got a temper and well, he tends to take suicide cases pretty hard." The younger officer sheepishly said as he followed after Officer Braddock's retreating form.

Carter just nodded in reply and shut the door on the officer's backs. _Well I am damn glad that hell is finally over. _He glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it was 10:45am. He wasn't due for work for another seven hours and he had no idea how he was going to pass the time without driving himself insane in the process, after thinking for a few minutes he opted on deciding to aimlessly watch the TV for the next few hours and maybe try and get some sleep also. As much as he didn't want to risk having any more nightmares, he was still pretty tired even after last night's alcohol induced slumber, and the last thing he wanted was to go into work tired and off his game. He didn't want to rake in any more unwanted attention from his friends.

* * *

Checking his watch he noted that the time was 5:52pm. He looked up from where he was standing and watched through the ambulance bay doors as the doctors and nurses walked past – his friends. They were in there doing their jobs, helping people and saving countless lives. He used to feel so important when he would go to work, he felt as if he was really making a difference to somebody out there, that because of him someone was now able to see another year of their life, that they were going to witness all of the amazing things still yet to come in their lives. However now all that he felt when he went to work was emptiness and regret. He used to feel amazing when he saved a life, but now he was beginning to see the darker side to things and that was starting to deeply worry him. When he saved a person he use to assume that he was doing good, that he was giving them more great years to come. But what if they weren't great years? What if they weren't so thrilled with living, what if their whole life was just full of pain, and he had basically just given them more suffering. Shaking the thoughts from his head he took a deep breath and headed through the ambulance bay doors.

He was immediately hit with the familiar aroma of disinfectant. He gave the waiting room a quick glance and took in the patients that were waiting to be seen, there was roughly 7 to 8 people out there. Heading over towards the admit desk he went to pick up a chart but was interrupted as the ambulance bay doors flew open revealing a gurney being pushed inside by two paramedics. He rushed over towards the gurney, as did Mark, Kerry and Chuny.

"What happened here?" Mark questioned, glancing down at the patient on the gurney. It was a girl no less than 13 years old, she had scrapes and bruises covering a high percentage of her chest.

"Automobile versus 10 year old girl, blunt trauma to the right lower chest and a fractured left femur." One of the paramedics stated, handing the chart over to Kerry, who quickly skimmed through what was written down and noted that the little girl's name was Natalie.

"She was stable, but then I lost her pulse en route with decreased breath sounds on the right." The second paramedic added, as they helped move the girl onto the trauma room's stretcher, they then left in search to find the girl's mother who had followed behind the ambulance.

"Right, we need to set up a chest tube right away." Kerry shouted, taking control of the current trauma she placed the chart on top of one of the machines next to the gurney.

"Her pulse is thready, get her on 10 litres blood mass." Chuny exclaimed, whilst hooking the girl up various wires and machines.

"Can somebody page Corday!" Kerry shouted as she assessed the girl's injuries.

"Get a trauma panel, U.A, type and cross for four." Mark shouted as he read her current vital signs.

Elizabeth came rushing through the doors seconds later, "What happened here?" she asked, rushing over to the patient.

"10 year old girl versus automobile, she's got a blunt force trauma to the right lower chest and what looks to be a fractured left femur." Mark rattled off, still watching the girl's stats.

"Oh God, poor thing. I need two large bore IVs, squeeze in a saline and prep the chest." Elizabeth shouted, assessing the girl's current situation for herself.

"Guys her BP's 80 palp, pulse 110." Chuny shouted.

"We need an ultrasound stat!" Mark ordered, not liking the bruising on the girl's chest and stomach.

Suddenly the little girl opened her eyes, "I want my mum! Where is my mummy!" she screamed out.

"Shh, she's just outside sweetie, how are you doing Natalie?" Kerry asked, gently stroking the girl's hair.

"Mum!" Natalie agonisingly shouted out, grimacing in pain.

"Let's get her something for the pain, one percent Lidocaine!" Kerry shouted, still stroking the girl's hair, trying to calm her down. Tears were beginning to streak the sides of her cheeks, mixing with the dirt and blood that was currently staining her face.

"I need a ten blade!" Elizabeth shouted, authority lacing her voice.

"Get an x-ray up here for a portable chest!" Mark also shouted.

"Right, I need a 28 french, now!" Elizabeth shouted, seconds later Chuny handed her the requested instrument.

"Pulse ox 92 on 10 litres." Chuny exclaimed.

"Erh we need to-to intubate." Carter exclaimed, the first thing he had said or done in the past five minutes that he had been standing in the trauma room.

"I didn't know you were in here Carter? Anyway, quick then intubate her." Mark yelled.

"I, ah, no." Carter mumbled shaking his head, re membering back to the last time somebody requested him to intubate someone.

"No? What the hell Cart-" Mark turned around and shouted at Carter, but was cut off by Kerry.

"It's right, I'll intubate her, give me a six and a half." Kerry shouted, a few seconds later, "All right I'm in, hook me up."

"Oh wow." Chuny exclaimed, shocked at the site before her.

"Damn her chest is full of blood." Mark exclaimed, not noticing Carter considerably pale at the mention of blood.

"Her pressure is down to 70, looks like an artery has been nicked." Chuny stated.

"Chuny call the OR, have them hold a room. It looks like it was more than a nick." Elizabeth shouted, closely examining the little girl's chest. "Alright, we almost got more than a litre out."

"Her pressure is down to 50!" Kerry exclaimed as the beeping from the machine echoed throughout the trauma room. "Natalie! Can you hear me! Natalie!" Kerry shouted.

"She's unresponsive." Mark simply stated.

"Chest tube output is 1200ccs, all right, let's prep for a right-sided thoracotomy." Elizabeth ordered.

"Are you going to stick the bleeder?" Carter asked, the second thing he had said or done. He was curious as to what Elizabeth was planning however.

"No, no it's too close to the bone. Alright, let me get the o-silk on a Keith needle." Elizabeth said.

"W-what are you doing?" Carter asked, becoming more and more puzzled.

"It's the Kennedy manoeuvre, transmural haemostatic suture." Elizabeth stated, as if it was obvious knowledge.

"Second unit is in!" Chuny shouted.

"Right hang another!" Mark yelled, observing Elizabeth's procedure.

"And auto-transfuse another from the cell saver." Elizabeth added. "Right, now take the superior and the inferior and tie them tight on the outside." She ordered.

"Oh dry as a bone, nice." Mark complimented Elizabeth's handy work.

"Wait, pressure's crashing!" Chuny shouted, the situation now becoming tense again.

"But the chest is dry?" Carter asked, now confused as to what was happening.

"Do an ultrasound, check the stomach. She dropped her pressure, she must be still bleeding." Elizabeth shouted, wondering why the patient was still not out of the woods.

Mark quickly checked the ultrasound. "God, you're right, her stomach is full of blood."

"Damn it's the liver, she blew the capsule." Kerry exclaimed, worry evident in her voice.

"We should've checked the stomach earlier! All right, let's hang two units and let's get her up to the OR now, let's move!" Elizabeth shouted, regaining control of the situation. Mark, Kerry and Elizabeth both rushed out of the trauma room, pushing the gurney towards the elevator.

Carter just stood there in the middle of the trauma room watching his fellow doctors; his friends take the little girl up to the OR, the little girl who they had been trying to save. Carter would normally feel ecstatic at the fact that a life had been saved, especially a child's – but he didn't feel anything, nothing at all. He felt completely numb.

* * *

It was now 10:50pm and Carter was becoming more and more annoyed at the slightest thing. First he had mentally beaten himself up about not helping in the trauma, then a second trauma had come in and he had purposely snuck into an exam room so he wouldn't have to deal with it. Then he had gotten confused numerous times while trying to diagnose his patients and now the stupid chart wouldn't come out of the chart holder.

"God dammit!" he yelled, causing everybody in earshot of the admit desk to stop what they were currently doing and look up to see the chart holder come crashing down to the floor and the charts scattering around it as Carter stood there breathing heavily, obviously biting back a lot of anger.

Embarrassed by what just happened Carter quickly took off in the direction of the lounge. Leaving a stunned audience behind him. Kerry was standing next to Carter when his sudden outburst happened, she quickly placed the chart she was holding onto the desk and followed after Carter.

Mark also had witness the event unfold in front of him and was equally as stunned as the rest of the ER was at what had just happened. Deciding it was best that he follow after as well, he excused himself from his current patient and followed the direction that Kerry had took off in, hoping to get to the bottom of what had just happened.

Carter pushed open the doors to the lounge and stumbled inside, he tried to focus his vision on the couch in front of him, but failed. Everything was a giant swirl of colours, his head was pounding and he felt as if he was going to throw up any second now. _Oh god this must be withdrawal. _

"Carter!" Kerry shouted, running in behind him, not noticing his deteriorating condition. "What the hell was that out there!" she asked, trying to control the shock and anger from her voice. By now Mark had caught up and was standing beside Kerry, also unaware of Carter's current condition.

Carter didn't respond, instead he stumbled over to the couch and flopped down onto his stomach, burying his head into his arms he let out a small moan. "Just leave me alone." He half mumbled into his sleeves, barely audible to the other occupants of the room.

"Carter, talk to us, what's going on?" Mark questioned, worry starting to creep into his voice.

Suddenly the lounge door flung open to reveal an annoyed looking Peter Benton. "What the hell man! I heard you chucked a tantrum in the ER?" anger and concern both colliding together in his tone of voice.

"Just go all of you away!" Carter shouted, his dizziness greeted him at full force again, and he gritted his teeth to suppress any outward show of pain.

The first thing Peter noticed was that Carter had mixed his words up, like that time out in the car park. Something was definitely wrong here and he hoped he wasn't the only one who noticed that. He looked over to Mark and Kerry and saw blank expressions, either they were good at hiding their emotion or they didn't notice Carter's slip of words.

"Carter we just want to help yo-" Mark started to say but was cut off.

"No! I don't want help, I don't need help, I don't need anybody! Just go away!" Carter shouted, this time looking up at the people surrounding him.

Peter saw the look of worry cross Mark and Kerry's face as they also noticed how glazed over Carter's eyes had become and how he was now beginning to sweat profusely. "Carter man, you're sick, I'll take you home." Peter tried, hoping that Carter was willing to leave the place with him. He wanted to speak to him alone.

_I need to get out of here, I need to get home, I need to sleep, god what I really need is a fix. _

"Yeah, yeah okay." Carter mumbled, trying to sit up but failing as he was greeted with an intense bout of dizziness accompanied by severe nausea. "I'm g-going to be s-sick." He half stuttered, his face becoming pale.

Mark quickly rushed out into the hallway and grabbed an emesis basin and rushed back in time to shove the bowel under Carter's mouth as he emptied his stomach into the basin. All that his stomach contained was half a bottle of vodka that he had drank last night, realising he hadn't eaten in days he made a mental note to fix that when he got home. He didn't need his friends thinking that he also had some form of an eating disorder.

After Carter had finished being sick, Peter shot Mark and Kerry a look and realised that they also smelt the lingering stench of alcohol in Carter's vomit. Carter unaware of it flopped back down onto the lounge and closed his eyes tightly shut in pain. The lights were working wonders on his headache. A slight groan of pain escaped his lips as he placed his arm over his eyes; shielding them from the light.

"Come on Carter, let's get you home." Benton kneeled down beside Carter's form and placed his arm under Carter's shoulder and placed Carter's arm around his shoulder's, he then lifted the man slowly from the couch, surprised at how easy it was to lift Carter he glanced at his friend's form for a few seconds, noting how much weight he looked to have lost. He couldn't be much more than 140lbs at the most.

Carter just moaned in reply and closed his eyes as he let Dr. Benton guide him out of the lounge. Peter glanced back at Mark and Kerry and shot them a look that told them that he would take care of everything; that he'd get to the bottom of what was happening with Carter if it was the last thing that he did.

As Peter half carried Carter towards the ambulance bay doors he could feel the eyes of almost every single person in the ER on his back. This was sure going to start the rumours running like crazy. First Carter knocks over all the charts in the ER in a fit of rage and then he's being half carried out. Benton sighed to himself as he looked over at Carter. His eyes were still tightly shut and he was biting down hard on his bottom lip, probably trying his hardest to fight off pain.

Once Peter made his way to his car, he opened the passenger seat and gently lowered Carter's body into the seat, and buckled his seat belt over him. He then walked around and got into his side of the car and took off out of the car park, heading towards Carter's apartment building.

"Hey man you still with me?" Benton asked after a few minutes, trying to break the awkward silence that was hanging in the air.

"Mhm." Carter half moaned, rolling his head to the side, he let out another groan of pain. "Where are we?" he suddenly realised he had no idea what was happening and where he was. The last thing that he remembered was that he was standing in the admit area of the ER.

"In my car, I'm taking you home. Do you remember what happened?" Benton asked, quickly glancing over to take in Carter's condition. His face was still pale, his forehead was laced with beads of sweat and his eyes were still glazed over – that was not a good sign at all.

Everything suddenly hit him, as he remembered what had just happened moments ago "Y-yeah." Carter stuttered, "W-was in the lounge. You came to t-take me home. I r-remember now."

"Good, that's good Carter. Want to talk about what happened?" Only one thing was going through Peter's mind right now, and he hoped to God that he was wrong.

"No." Carter simply said, glancing out the window he saw his reflection and the sight before him shocked him. He knew that he looked terrible, he even felt terrible – but his reflection was deathly. His face was as pale as a ghost, his eyes had dark circles underneath them and his eyes themself were glazed over, his head was laced with sweat and his cheekbones were protruding more than they normally were. _I really need to start eating more. _

"Can you pull the car over." Carter blatantly asked, "Please."

"Why?" Benton questioned, wondering if Carter was going to attempt to run off into the forest or something stupid that only Carter would think to do in this situation.

"I think I'm going to be sick." He mumbled, clearly embarrassed about the whole situation.

At that Peter veered the car over to the side of the road, before he had time to react Carter had opened the passenger's door and had began to be sick onto the side of the road, still half sitting in the car. After a few minutes had passed he leaned back in the seat and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, his face going a deep shade of red from embarrassment. This was the second time tonight he had been sick in front of his former mentor; the man he held the most respect for.

"You okay man?" Peter asked, unsure what he could do to help the young doctor. He hated the fact that there was nothing that he could do right now to make everything better.

"Yeah, feel better now." He mumbled, leaning his head back against the seat he closed his eyes and tried to focus on breathing slower, he noticed his breathing had become more erratic and he didn't want to worry Dr. Benton any further than what he probably already was.

Peter had once again regained driving on the road when a thought suddenly entered his mind. "Carter." Benton's voice had a warning tone to it, "Are you going through withdrawal?" he never even looked over at Carter as the words passed through his lips. He kept his stern gaze on the road ahead of him, afraid that if he looked over at Carter's form he would lose it completely.

The words hit him like a freight train, he looked over at Dr. Benton, he could see that he was clenching his jaw tightly shut, trying hard to suppress any form of emotion. "No." Carter simply said, he wasn't going to admit that to Dr. Benton, no way in hell – he couldn't. He just couldn't.

Benton just sighed in response, he somehow had a hard time believing those words. Seconds later he pulled up in front of Carter's apartment building. Getting out of the car he walked over to Carter's side and draped his arm around his shoulder and helped Carter out of the car. Carter shrugged out of Peter's grip once he was standing and proceeded to unsteadily walk towards his apartment.

"Carter, get back here." Peter said, the same warning in his tone.

"I'm fine, thanks for the lift Dr. Benton, I appreciate it. I just need to go and get some sleep." _I just need to go call my doctor and make another appointment so I can get another fix. _

"Carter you're not fine, you almost passed out in the damn lounge, now get back here!" He yelled after the young man, following him into his apartment complex.

Carter turned around and faced Dr. Benton, "I am fine. Thanks for your concern." He then turned back around and headed towards his room, Benton closely behind him.

Carter was too quick however and made it into his apartment room and slammed and locked his door on Benton's face before he could follow him into the room.

"Carter! Hey! You open this damn door now!" Benton yelled, pounding his fist against the door frame. "Now! Carter now!"

Carter clenched his eyes tightly shut and willed Dr. Benton to be quiet, the pounding and shouting did nothing but intensify his already excruciating headache. He gritted his teeth together and opened his eyes, not the slightest surprised to notice that he couldn't see two feet in front of him. Everything was a blur, the colours danced in front of his eyes in a sick taunting way. Dr. Benton's voice had begun to sound distant and he noticed that the colours were beginning to fade away and be replaced with darkness. The last thing he remembered was hearing his own pained moan escape his lips.

"Carter!" Benton shouted, getting more and more annoyed at Carter's lack of co-operation. Deciding that he needed to be more forceful with him, Peter slammed his body against the door frame repeatedly until the lock smashed and the wood splintered and the door flung open, "Cart-" he stopped mid sentence as his breath caught in his throat as he took in the scene before him, it was the worst sight he could have ever imagined.

Carter was lying on the floor, his nose and ear were bleeding; leaving streaks of maroon red down his face, however the most horrific aspect of the situation was that he was currently in the midst of having one seriously violent seizure.

* * *

**Please review guys! Makes me know that some people actually will read this when I upload the new chapters, makes me more inclined to write and submit them faster :) & yes, I am cruel for leaving it like that - poor Carter ! D:**


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